ubt. Suddenly she slipped a hand through his arm, and
it gently closed over one of his. Her soft eyes were raised to his face as
she put another question in a low tone.

"And if we go under, Seth?"

The man moved uneasily, but the little hand retained its hold of his.

"What then?"

Seth cleared his throat, but remained silent.

"What then?" the girl persisted.

"Don't ask me."

"I've thought once or twice of my poor father and mother," Rosebud said
presently. "I was wondering what happened to them at--at the end."

Seth eyed the girl for a second. His face was troubled.

"I've a notion he was killed by the Injuns," he said.

"And mother?"

"Can't jest say. I don't fancy, though, he let the brutes worrit her
any."

There was another pause. With an involuntary movement Rosebud's hand
tightened trustfully upon his.

"I think father was right--to do that," she said simply.

The man nodded.

The next moment he was kneeling, his body bending forward, and his eyes
straining in the direction of the horizon.

"What is it?" the girl asked.

"Ther's something movin'."

But Rosebud could hear nothing. Still she was content to accept his
assurance.

"It's wheels," he said after a few moments.

"Is it Joe Smith's outfit?"

"Yup."

They both listened. The girl could now hear the faintest possible rattle
of wheels. Suddenly she turned upon him. Her breath was coming quickly.
She was smiling, and her eyes were soft under cover of the dim starlight.

"Seth, I want you to let me do something. In the old days you used to be
my dear old 'daddy.' You used to scold me when I did wrong. You used to
get angry with me, and I used to get more angry with you. Since I've grown
up, of course, things have changed, haven't they?"

"Yes." The man looked into her face wonderingly.

"Well, daddy dear," the girl laughed nervously. "Maybe when the trouble
begins I shan't see much of you. You'll be busy, and so will I. It's peace
now, and I just want you to fall back into the old way. I want you for my
'daddy'--my dear, dear old 'daddy'--just for these few minutes. I want to
be the silly scatterbrain I used to be."

"I ain't a heap at guessin', Rosie," Seth said doubtfully, but smiling
tenderly at the upturned face.

"No, you never were." Rosebud gave a queer little laugh. "Well, I just
want you to let me ride out and meet dear old Mrs. Smith. You know what a
nervous old dear she is. I just thought if I rode out it might