"In time?" he asked
anxiously, for this was his first independent expedition.
"Y'u bet," chuckled Denver. "We're right glad to see you, and
I'll bet those boys in the cage ain't regretting your arrival
any. Fifteen minutes later and you would have been in time to
hold the funeral services, I reckon."
"Where is Miss Messiter?" asked the young officer.
"She's at the Elk House, colonel. I expect some of us better
drift over there and tell her it's all right. She's the gamest
little woman that ever crossed the Wyoming line. Hadn't been for
her these boys would have been across the divide hours ago. She's
a plumb thoroughbred. Wouldn't give up an inch. All day she has
generaled this thing; played a mighty weak hand for a heap more
than it was worth. Sand? Seh: she's grit clear through, if
anybody asks you." And Denver told the story of the day, making
much of her unflinching courage and nothing of her men's
readiness to back whatever steps she decided upon.
It was ten minutes past eleven when a smooth young, apple-cheeked
lad in khaki presented himself before Helen Messiter with a bow
never invented outside of West Point.
"I am Lieutenant Beecher. Governor Raleigh presents his
compliments by me, Miss Messiter, and is very glad to be able to
put at your service such forces as are needed to quiet the town.
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