the plunging of the released coach horses.

Not so his companion! She was examining them more closely, and suddenly
lifted her bright, animated face. "Look!" she said; "our men have been
here, and have had a hand in this--whatever it is."

"Our men?" repeated Boyle blankly.

"Yes!--troopers from the post--the escort I told you of. These are the
prints of the regulation cavalry horseshoe--not of Foster's team, nor of
Indian ponies, who never have any! Don't you see?" she went on eagerly;
"our men have got wind of something and have galloped down here--along
the ridge--see!" she went on, pointing to the hoof prints coming
from the plain. "They've anticipated some Indian attack and secured
everything."

"But if they were the same escort you spoke of, they must have known you
were here, and have"--he was about to say "abandoned you," but checked
himself, remembering they were her father's soldiers.

"They knew I could take care of myself, and wouldn't stand in the way
of their duty," said the young girl, anticipating him with quick
professional pride that seemed to fit her aquiline nose and tall figure.
"And if they knew that," she added, softening with a mischievous smile,
"they also knew, of course, that I was protected by a gallant stranger
vouched for by Mr. Foster! No!" she added, with a certain blind, devoted
confidence, which Boyle noticed with a slight wince that she had never
shown before, "it's all right! and 'by orders,' Mr. Boyle, and when
they've done their work they'll be back."

But Boyle's masculine common sense was, perhaps, safer than Miss
Cantire's feminine faith and inherited discipline, for in an instant
he suddenly comprehended the actual truth! The Indians had been there
FIRST; THEY had despoiled the coach and got off safely with their booty
and prisoners on the approach of the escort, who were now naturally
pursuing them with a fury aroused by the belief that their commander's
daughter was one of their prisoners. This conviction was a dreadful one,
yet a relief as far as the young girl was concerned. But should he tell
her? No! Better that she should keep her calm faith in the triumphant
promptness of the soldiers--and their speedy return.

"I dare say you are right," he said cheerfully, "and let us be thankful
that in the empty coach you'll have at least a half-civilized shelter
until they return. Meantime I'll go and reconnoitre a little."

"I will go with you," she said.

But Boyle poin