You must accept my word for it." "We'll do it! We'll do it! say no more!" exclaimed Pennington hastily.
It was a splendid column of men that rode out from the Union camp and General Sheridan himself saw them off.

Colonel Winchester at their head was a man of fine face and figure, and he had never looked more martial.
The hardships of war had left no mark upon him.

His face was tanned a deep red by the winds of summer and winter, and although a year or two over forty he seemed to be several years less.

Behind him came Dick, Pennington and Warner, hardy and well knit, who had passed through the most terrible of all schools, three and a half years of incessant war, and who although youths were nevertheless stronger and more resourceful than most men.
Near them rode the sergeant, happy in his capacity as scout and guide, and welcoming the responsibility that he knew would be his, as soon as they reached the mountains, looming so near and white.

He felt as if he were back upon the plains, leading a troop in a great blizzard, and guarding it with eye and ear and all his five senses against Sioux or Cheyenne ambush.