The commander hesitated, scarcely knowing what he might be justified in saying to this man.

“It was a brave deed, well performed,” he said at last, with soldierly cordiality, “although I can hardly offer you a fitting reward.”

The other stood bareheaded, his face showing pale under its sunburn, his hand trembling violently where it rested against his horse’s mane.

“There is little I desire,” he replied, slowly, unable to altogether disguise the quiver in his voice, “and that is to be permitted to ride once more into action in the ranks of the Seventh.”

The true-hearted, impulsive, manly soldier fronting him reddened to the roots of his fair hair, his proud eyes instantly softening.  For a second Hampton even imagined he would extend his hand, but the other paused with one step forward, discipline proving stronger than impulse.

“Spoken like a true soldier,” he exclaimed, a new warmth in his voice.  “You shall have your wish.  Take position in Calhoun’s troop yonder.”

Hampton turned quietly away, leading his horse, yet had scarcely advanced three yards before Custer halted him.

“I shall be pleased to talk with you again after the fight,” he said, briefly, as though half doubting the propriety of such words.

The other bowed, his face instantly brightening.  “I thank you sincerely.”

The perplexed commander stood motionless, gazing after the receding figure, his face grown grave and thoughtful.  Then he turned to the wondering adjutant beside him.

“You never knew him, did you, Cook?”

“I think not, sir; who is he?”

“Captain Nolan—­you have heard the story.”

The younger officer wheeled about, staring, but the despatch bearer had already become indistinguishable among the troopers.

“Is that so?” he exclaimed, in evident surprise.  “He has a manly face.”

“Ay, and he was as fine a soldier as ever fought under the flag,” declared Custer, frankly.  “Poor devil!  The hardest service I was ever called upon to perform was the day we broke him.  I wonder if Calhoun will recognize the face; they were good friends once.”

He stopped speaking, and for a time his field-glasses were fastened upon a small section of Indian village nestled in the green valley.  Its full extent was concealed by the hills, yet from what the watchers saw they realized that this would prove no small encampment.

“I doubt if many warriors are there,” he commented, at last.  “They may have gone up the river to intercept Reno’s advance, and if so, this should be our time to strike.  But we are not far enough around, and this ground is too rough for cavalry.  There looks to be considerable level land out yonder, and that coulee ought to lead us into it without peril of observation from below.  Return to your commands, gentlemen, and with the order of march see personally that your men move quietly.  We must strike quick and hard, driving the wedge home with a single blow.”