CHAPTER XXIIThe bugles at Fort Leavenworth sounded Boots and Saddles for the march on Brown and his guerrillas. The barracks were early astir with the excitement. Stern work might be ahead. Outlaws who would dare violate a flag of truce, to take a United States Marshal and his posse would have no more respect for cavalry. The men and officers were tired of disorder. They were eager for a stand up and knock down fight. They expected it and they were ready for it.
Stuart's bride was crying. In spite of her young husband's gay banter, she persisted in being serious.
"There's no danger, honey girl!" he laughed.
She touched the big cavalry pistol in its holster, her lips still trembling.
"No—you're just galloping off on a picnic."
"That's all it will be—"
"Then you can take me with you."
