ade, thus adding to its powers of resistance. Every now and
then Ma would receive casually dropped hints on the subject of her
storeroom. A large supply of ammunition arrived from Beacon Crossing. Many
cases of tinned provisions came along, and Ma, wondering, took them in
without question or comment at the time. Later in the day when she
happened to find Seth alone she told him of them, adopting a casual tone,
the tone which these people invariably assumed when the signs of the times
wore their most significant aspect.

"There was a heap of canned truck come from the Crossing, Seth," she said.
"I laid it down in the cellars. Maybe you sent it along?"

And Seth replied--

"Why, yes, Ma. I figgered we'd like a change from fresh meat. You see I
happened along to Beacon Crossing, an' I guessed I'd save a journey
later."

"I see."

Ma's bright old eyes read all there was underlying her boy's words, and
she, like the rest, continued steadily on with her work.

So the days crept slowly by. Now the snow and ice were gone, and the tawny
hue of the prairie was tinged with that perfect emerald of budding spring.
The woodlands of the river and the Reservation had lost their barren
blackness. The earth was opening its eyes and stretching itself after its
months of heavy slumber. Life was in the very air of the plains. The whole
world seemed to be bursting with renewed life.

Seth was now restored to something like his old self. His vigor was a
thing to marvel at. His regular day's work was only a tithe of what he
did. That which went on after the rest of the household had retired to
rest was known to only two others. Rube possessed the younger man's
confidence, and Jimmy Parker was in constant communication with him. Seth
and the latter worked hand in hand for the common welfare, but they were
silent. Each knew the character of the dangers which ever surrounded them.
Each knew that an absolute silence and apparent indifference were the only
means of learning the plans, the meaning of the furtive unrest of the
warlike Sioux. All that they learned was carefully stored and docketed for
future reference.

Parker's responsibility was official. Seth's was voluntary and
humanitarian. Now he had a double incentive. Rosebud was in danger. He
knew that he alone stood between her and the treacherous machinations of
Nevil Steyne, and the lawless passion of an unscrupulous savage. He dared
not spare himself. He must know of every moveme