Can you outfit me, Lieutenant ?" Gaskins smiled grimly, but with no trace of humor.

His eyes were upon the girl, still leaning over her pommel.
"I 'll outfit you all right," he said brusquely, "and with no great regret, either.

And I shall report finding you here in disobedience to orders." "Very well, sir." Molly's brown eyes swept to the Lieutenant's face, her form straightening in the saddle, her lips pressed tightly together.
Gaskins fronted the Sergeant, stung into anger by the man's quiet response.
"I shall prefer charges, you understand," almost savagely.

"Helm, give this fellow that extra rifle, and ammunition belt.

McMasters, you will let him have your horse." Wasson rolled out of his saddle, muttering something indistinctly, which might have been an oath.
"I ain't goin' ter stand fer that, Leftenant," he said defiantly.
"Bein' as I ain't no enlisted man, an' this yere is my hoss, 'Brick' Hamlin don't start on no such ride on that lame brute o' McMasters'.
Here, you 'Brick,' take this critter.