WALLOP is the big thing Marshall Neilan injects into his pictures. Heart wallop, comedy wallop, and the sure wallop of skilled workmanship over which has brooded a vigorously artistic eye.
    He has taken the story of Randall Parrish and cleverly woven it through the dramatic episodes of Custer's last stand with such good effect that the picture holds you rapt till the final scene, which is the pilgrimage of lovers to two lonely graves--a brave man's and that of a freckled faced boy who had died smiling in the arms of his hero.
    Bob Hampton's real name is Nolan. Nolan had been in Custer's army. On circumstantial evidence he is convicted of the murder of a man known to have been too friendly with Mrs. Nolan. Once out of jail he takes the name of Hampton and sets out to find the real murderer.
    His quest leads him into stirring scenes of warfare, introduces him to his own daughter--he hadn't known he had a daughter--brings him finally to the man he seeks, and sends him to a happy death, fighting beside Custer, his name cleared of the stain upon it.
    Mr. Kirkwood is fine in the role of Hampton.

    Wesley Barry is an orphan, whom Hampton has taken under his wing. He adores the big fellow and is his shadow, a jealous and persistent shadow whose face lights up with joy when Miss Daw as Johanna breaks a leg.
    "We can shoot her now," he says with relief, memory harking back to the case of a horse he had known under like circumstances. His disgust and disappointment are intense when the object of his devotion impatiently pushes away the proffered guns. Into the thick of battle he follows Hampton, and when a bullet gets him, whispers through tears of agony:
    "But you always DID like me better'n her, didn't you, Bob?" Few men are blessed with a tough little, game little, loyal little pal like Wesley's Dick.
    Miss Daw as the girl, who later proves to be Hampton's daughter, is pleasing and you'll be vurr' fond of Pat O'Malley as the man she marries. A fine, grave, upstanding young chap, and a good actor.
    Chicago's Tom Gallery hasn't much to do as the parson, but is all right as far as he goes. The role offers little chance for a display of histrionic ability.

    The scenery and photoplay are fine and Mr. Neilan has succeeded in getting some panoramic effects that are bears!

Source:

Tin�e, Mae, "Some Wallop to This Film; Trust Neilan!," The Chicago Daily Tribune, Chicago, Tuesday, 24 May 1921, p. 16.