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 whose heart's too heavy for 'em, an' I'll look for the cap'n meself," appealed Tom Dougherty.

They kept up the fires and tried to sleep. The black, cold night deepened; overhead the steely stars spanned from prairie to dark slopes. The Great Bear of the sky, which contained the Pointers that told the time, drifted across, ranging on his nightly trail.

Suddenly, at midnight, they heard a faint, breathless "Whoo-ee!" And while they listened, another.

"'Tis the cap'n and the doctor!" the sergeant exclaimed. "Hooray! Give 'em a yell, now, all together. Build up the fires."

They yelled. They were answered, through the darkness—and presently through the same darkness the lieutenant—and the doctor—came staggering in, bending low, to the fire-light.

Meat!

"Here you are, my lads!" the lieutenant panted. He dropped the load from his back, swayed, sank to his knees, and the sergeant sprang to catch him.

"We're all right, sir. We knew you'd be coming. You're a welcome sight, sir, meat or no meat. We were getting anxious about you and the doctor, sir."

"I'll tend to him, sergeant," gasped the doctor. "You be helping the men with the meat. Don't let 'em over-eat There's more, back where we killed."