him the bones an' told him, he turned white an' his eyes filled up. 'They should know me better than that,' said he. 'Never would I abandon them. To restore them to their homes and their country again I'd carry the end of a litter, myself, through snow and mountains for months.'"
"He'd do it," asserted Sergeant Meek. "And so would any of us. Bones from their feet, is it? Who but a soldier would lose the smallest joint for such a pittance of pay, even to serve his country? Surely the Government won't lose sight o' men like poor John and Tom."
The lieutenant took prompt measures. The news from the back trail had affected him sorely. This same evening he approached the men who were sitting around the fire. They sprang up, to attention.
"You have heard of the condition of Sparks and Dougherty," he addressed. "They must be brought in at once, with all possible speed." He paused, as if planning.
Sergeant Meek saluted.
"One man and myself will take the trip, sir, with your permission. Jest give us the word, sir."
"I'm with you, sergeant," blurted Terry Miller.
"None better," accepted the sergeant. "We'll go on back to the Arkansaw, cap'n, for the hosses.
