Part 3 On The Little Big Horn Chapter 6 On The Little Big Horn

"My God! Can this be you, Hampton?" and the startled lieutenant flung
himself from his horse. "What does it mean? Why are you here?"

Hampton, leaning against the trembling horse to keep erect, slowly
lifted his hand in a semblance of military salute. "Despatches from
Cheyenne. This is Murphy--went crazy out yonder. For God's
sake--water, food!"

"Your canteen, Lane!" exclaimed Brant. "Now hold this cup," and he
dashed into it a liberal supply of brandy from a pocket-flask. "Drink
that all down, Hampton."

The man did mechanically as he was ordered, his hand never relaxing its
grasp of the rein. Then a gleam of reawakened intelligence appeared in
his eyes; he glanced up into the leering countenance of Murphy, and
then back at those others. "Give me another for him."

Brant handed to him the filled cup, noting as he did so the strange
steadiness of the hand which accepted it. Hampton lifted the tin to
the figure in the saddle, his own gaze directed straight into the eyes
as he might seek to control a wild animal.

"Drink it," he commanded, curtly, "every drop!"

For an instant the maniac glared back at him sullenly; then he appeared
to shrink in terror, and drank swiftly.

"We can make the rest of the way now," Hampton announced, quietly.
"Lord, but this has been a trip!"