ion was asked without any expression of fear, and the man knew
that the woman wanted a plain, truthful answer.

"It don't seem like it," he answered quietly.

"Yet, I kind o' notion we shall." Then after a pause he asked, "What's
your work now?"

"The wounded."

"Ah! Did you ever fire a gun, ma'am?"

"No."

"Have you a notion to try?"

"If necessary."

"Mebbe it's going to be."

"You can count on me."

Wondering at the change in this Englishwoman, her companion left her to
join Rube.

He found the whole garrison agog with excitement and alarm. There was a
large gathering at the north side of the stockade, behind the barn and
outbuildings. Even in the swift falling darkness it was evident that a big
move was going on in the distant Indian camps. Nor did it take long to
convince everybody that the move was in the nature of an advance.

After a long and earnest scrutiny through a pair of old field-glasses,
Seth, followed by Rube, made a round of the fortifications. The movement
was going on in every direction, and he knew that by morning, at any rate,
they would have to confront a grand assault. He had completed the round,
and was in the midst of discussing the necessary preparations with Rube,
still examining the outlook through the glasses, when suddenly he broke
off with a sharp ejaculation. The next moment he turned to the old man
below him.

"Take these glasses, Rube," he said rapidly, "an' stay right here. Guess
I'm goin' to drop over. I'll be back in awhiles. There's somethin' movin'
among the grass within gunshot."

With a cheery "aye," Rube clambered to the top of the stockade as the
younger man disappeared on the other side.

Seth landed on his hands and knees and moved out in that manner. Whatever
his quarry the plainsman's movements would have been difficult of
detection, for he crept along toward his goal with that rapid, serpentine
movement so essentially Indian.

Rube watched him until darkness hid him from view. Then, stooping low, and
scanning the sky-line a few minutes later, he distinctly made out the
silhouette of two men standing talking together.

Seth found himself confronting an Indian. The man was plastered with
war-paint, and his befeathered head was an imposing sight. But, even in
the darkness, he recognized the broad face and slit-like eyes of the
scout, Jim Crow. He was fully armed, but the white man's gun held him
covered. In response to the summons of the threatening we