“Is Custer here?” said Hampton.

“No; that is, not with my party.  We are guarding the pack-train.  The others are ahead, and Custer, with five troops, has moved to the right.  He is somewhere among those ridges back of the bluff.”

The man turned and looked where the officer pointed, shading his eyes with his hand.  Before him lay only the brown, undulating waves of upland, a vast desert of burnt grass, shimmering under the hot sun.

“Can you give me a fresh horse, a bite to eat, and a cup of coffee, down there?” he asked, anxiously.  “You see I ’ve got to go on.”

“Go on?  Good God! man, do you realize what you are saying?  Why, you can hardly sit the saddle!  You carry despatches, you say?  Well, there are plenty of good men in my troop who will volunteer to take them on.  You need rest.”

“Not much,” said Hampton.  “I’m fit enough, or shall be as soon as I get food.  Good Lord, boy, I am not done up yet, by a long way!  It’s the cursed loneliness out yonder,” he swept his hand toward the horizon, “and the having to care for him, that has broken my heart.  He went that way clear back on the Powder, and it’s been a fight between us ever since.  I ’ll be all right now if you lads will only look after him.  This is going to reach Custer, and I’ll take it!” He flung back his ragged coat, his hand on the despatch-bag.  “I ’ve earned the right.”

Brant reached forth his hand cordially.  “That’s true; you have.  What’s more, if you ’re able to make the trip, there is no one here who will attempt to stop you.  But now tell me how this thing happened.  I want to know the story before we get in.”

For a moment Hampton remained silent, his thoughtful gaze on the near-by videttes, his hands leaning heavily upon the saddle pommel.  Perhaps he did not remember clearly; possibly he could not instantly decide just how much of that story to tell.  Brant suspected this last to be his difficulty, and he spoke impulsively.

“Hampton, there has been trouble and misunderstanding between us, but that’s all past and gone now.  I sincerely believe in your purpose of right, and I ask you to trust me.  Either of us would give his life if need were, to be of real service to a little girl back yonder in the hills.  I don’t know what you are to her; I don’t ask.  I know she has every confidence in you, and that is enough.  Now, I want to do what is right with both of you, and if you have a word to say to me regarding this matter, I ’ll treat it confidentially.  This trip with Murphy has some bearing upon Naida Gillis, has it not?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me the story?”

The thoughtful gray eyes looked at him long and searchingly.  “Brant, do you love that girl?”

Just as unwaveringly the blue eyes returned the look.  “I do.  I have asked her to become my wife.”

“And her answer?”

“She said no; that a dead man was between us.”