Since coming to the fort Captain Moore had been watching two old soldiers very closely.
These soldiers were named Moses Bicker and Jack Drossdell. Their reputations were not of the best, and the black marks against them were numerous.
Some time before, the young captain had heard that Bicker came of a family of Colorado desperadoes and that he had joined the army during a spasm of reformation.
The actions of the pair did not suit Captain Moore in the least, and that night he took it upon himself to watch them more closely than ever.
In the darkness he saw Bicker make his way to the stable, and to that spot, a little later, Drossdell followed.
"Something is in the wind, and I'm going to find out what it is," he mused, and watching his opportunity he passed into the stable unobserved.
At first he could hear nothing but the movements of the horses, but presently came a low murmur from one corner of the loft.
Cautiously the young officer climbed the ladder and stepped into the hay.
Here he could hear the conversation between Bicker and Drossdell quite plainly.
"They never suspected the butter," he heard Bicker say. "It tastes a little strong, but they
