ons, and then turned quietly away. A
moment later he was galloping on one of the troopers' horses across the
empty plain.

Miss Cantire awoke presently to the sound of a familiar voice and the
sight of figures that she knew. But the young officer's first words of
explanation--a guarded account of the pursuit of the Indians and the
recapture of the arms, suppressing the killing of Foster and the mail
agent--brought a change to her brightened face and a wrinkle to her
pretty brow.

"But Mr. Boyle said nothing of this to me," she said, sitting up. "Where
is he?"

"Already on his way to the next station on one of our horses! Wanted
to catch the down stage and get a new box of samples, I fancy, as the
braves had rigged themselves out with his laces and ribbons. Said he'd
lost time enough on this picnic," returned the young officer, with a
laugh. "Smart business chap; but I hope he didn't bore you?"

Miss Cantire felt her cheek flush, and bit her lip. "I found him most
kind and considerate, Mr. Ashford," she said coldly. "He may have
thought the escort could have joined the coach a little earlier, and
saved all this; but he was too much of a gentleman to say anything about
it to ME," she added dryly, with a slight elevation of her aquiline
nose.

Nevertheless Boyle's last words stung her deeply. To hurry off, too,
without saying "good-by," or even asking how she slept! No doubt he
HAD lost time, and was tired of her company, and thought more of his
precious samples than of her! After all, it was like him to rush off for
an order!

She was half inclined to call the young officer back and tell him how
Boyle had criticised her costume on the road. But Mr. Ashford was at
that time entirely preoccupied with his men around a ledge of rock and
bushes some yards from the coach, yet not so far away but that she could
hear what they said. "I'll swear there was no dead Injin here when we
came yesterday! We searched the whole place--by daylight, too--for any
sign. The Injin was killed in his tracks by some one last night. It's
like Dick Boyle, lieutenant, to have done it, and like him to have said
nothin' to frighten the young lady. He knows when to keep his mouth
shut--and when to open it."

Miss Cantire sank back in her corner as the officer turned and
approached the coach. The incident of the past night flashed back upon
her--Mr. Boyle's long absence, his flushed face, twisted necktie,
and enforced cheerfulness. She was sh