He had been in that position ever since they left him, and Dick knew that his eagerness to get an answer from Washington kept him there, mind and body waiting for the tick of the key.
Dick, the sergeant, and Red Blaze sat down by the stove again, and rested there quietly for a quarter of an hour.

Red Blaze was thinking that it would be another cold ride back over the pass.

The sergeant, although he was not sleepy, closed his eyes and saw again the vast rolling plains, the herds of buffalo spreading to the horizon, and the bands of Sioux and Cheyennes galloping down, their great war bonnets making splashes of color against the thin blue sky.

Dick was thinking of Pendleton, the peaceful little town in Kentucky that was his home, and of his cousin, Harry Kenton.

He did not know now where Harry was, and he did not even know whether he was dead or alive.
Dick sighed a little, and just at that moment the telegraph key began to click.
"The answer is coming!" exclaimed the young operator excitedly and then he bent closer over the key to take it.