he cheered with a mad laugh

  "Conrad!" he shouted. "Quick!"   Adrian Conrad stumbled over the doorstep, laughed, and fell to the floor.   "'S all right," he cheered with a mad laugh. "Haven't got Adrian Conrad yet. Easy--there, Mahon! They've chewed me up--a bit--that rifle at the trestle--saved me." Then he fainted.   A voice that jerked Mahon erect came grimly from the grade.   "Shut that door, durn yuh! I can't keep 'em down all night."   Mahon was obeying mechanically when the Indian dashed through.   "Gor-swizzle, if he ain't the spunkiest chap I ever set eyes on. Jes' swaggered up that path like he was out fer a walk. . . . But plumb loco'ed! An' whistlin'! Oh, gor!"   The Sergeant leaned heavily against the table, staring into the darkness toward the familiar voice. He knew he was dreaming again, that haunting grief for his dead half breed friend had mastered him at last in a moment of excitement.   A cry of alarm from Torrance's room, and a succession of rifle shots, brought him to his senses. He hastened to investigate. Torrance had seen several men running across the grade. One dark lump on the ground gave proof. When he returned to the front room the Indian was still there.