(Signed) "STOUT, Commanding."
Within was another slip, grimy and with dark stains. And Truman's
voice well-nigh failed him as he read: "November --th.
"C. O. CAMP SANDY: "Through a friendly Apache who was with me at the
reservation I learned that Captain Wren was lying wounded,
cut off from his troop and with only four of his men, in a
cañon southwest of Snow Lake. With Indian for guide we
succeeded reaching him second night, but are now surrounded,
nearly out of ammunition and rations. Three more of our
party are wounded and one, Trooper Kent, killed. If not
rushed can hold out perhaps three days more, but Wren sorely
needs surgical aid.
(Signed) "BLAKELY."
That was all. The Bugologist with his one orderly, and apparently
without the Apache Yuma scouts, had gone straightway to the rescue of
Wren. Now all were cut off and surrounded by a wily foe that counted
on, sooner or later, overcoming and annihilating them, and even by the
time the Indian runner slipped out (some faithful spirit won by
Blakely's kindness and humanity when acting agent), the defense had
been reduced just one-half. Thank God that Stout with his supplies and
stalwart followers was not more than two days' march away, and was
going straightway to the rescue!
It was nearly two when Plume and his half-hundred came drifting back
to the garrison, and even then some few of the watchers were along the
bluff. Janet Wren, having at last seen pale-faced, silent Angela to
her room and bed, with Kate Sanders on guard, had again gone forth to
extract such further information as Major Plume might have. Even at
that hour men were at work in the corrals, fitting saddles to half a
dozen spare horses,--about all that were left at the post,--and Miss
Wren learned that Colonel Byrne, with an orderly or two, had remained
at Arnold's ranch,--that Arnold himself, with six horsemen from the
post, was to set forth at four, join the colonel at dawn, and together
all were to push forward on the trail of Stout's command, hoping to
overtake them by nightfall. She whispered this to sleepless Kate on
her return to the house, for Angela, exhausted with grief and long
suspense, had fallen, apparently, into deep and dreamless slumber.
But the end of that eventful night was not yet. Arnold and his
sextette slipped away soon after four o'clock, and about 4.50 there
came a banging at the major's door. It was the telegraph operator. The
wire was patched at last, and the first message was to the effect that
the guard had been fired on in Cherry Creek cañon--that Private
Forrest was sorely wounded and lying at Dick's deserted ranch, with
two of their number to care for him. Could they possibly send a
surgeon at once?