I cannot permit you to make this attempt." "Do you hear, Cody ?" said McLaughlin.

"The only thing for you to do is to stay all night with us and then return to the railroad.

Even that will be risky enough, even for you." "But go you must," added Brown.
"The Agency is under martial law, and I cannot permit you to remain any longer than tomorrow morning." There was no arguing with these men.

So I resorted to my credentials.
Taking General Miles's card from my pocket, I laid it before Colonel Brown.
"What does this mean ?" he demanded, and passed the card to McLaughlin.
"It looks like orders," said McLaughlin.
"Yes," said Brown, "and I can't disobey them." Just then Captain Fatchett, an old friend of mine, came into the quarters, and Brown turned me over to him for entertainment until I should formulate my plans for my visit to Sitting Bull.

I had never served with the Eighth Cavalry to which the companies at the Post belonged, but I had many friends among the officers, and spent a very pleasant afternoon and evening talking over old times, and getting information about the present situation.
After guard-mount the next morning I told Colonel Brown that I did not think I would require an escort for my visit, as the presence of a number of armed men in the Indian country would be sure to start the trouble it was our purpose to avoid, or to delay as long as possible.
The man who had driven me over was anxious to return at once, so I asked for a light spring-wagon and a team of mules.
"Wait an hour or two," said the colonel, "and I'll send the quartermaster to you." I waited, and he employed the time, as I afterward learned, in telegraphing to General Miles, to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, to the Secretary of the Interior, and to President Harrison.