ake; since, however, it is actuated by love, I
appreciate it."

"I assure you," he said with deep feeling, "that aside from the
consideration due you, I am acting for the best. I wish you, as long as
possible, to remain at my side. We have made so many turnings and
changes in our course that I have lost all idea of the points of the
compass; I do not know whether we are going toward Fort Meade or
straying off to the right or left, with the probability that in the
morning we may be far out of the way. Help me to keep our bearings."

And husband and wife rode out on the prairie in the darkness and falling
snow.

CHAPTER XVIII.

NIGHT AND MORNING.

By this time the snow lay to the depth of several inches on the earth.
It was still falling, and the cold was increasing. The flakes were
slighter, and there were fewer of them. His knowledge of the weather
told the rancher that the fall would cease after a while, with a still
further lowering of the temperature. Thanks, however, to the
thoughtfulness of his wife more than himself, they were so plentifully
provided with blankets and extra garments that they were not likely to
suffer any inconvenience from that cause.

Fortunately for them and greatly to their relief, the stretch of prairie
which they had struck continued comparatively level. Occasionally they
ascended a slight elevation or rode down a declivity, but in no case for
more than two hours was either so steep that the ponies changed their
gait from the easy swinging canter to a walk.

Once, after riding down a slight decline, they struck another stream,
but it was little more than a brook, so strait that a dozen steps
brought them out on the other side with little more than the wetting of
their animals' hoofs.

They rode side by side, for the mare was as fleet and enduring as the
horse. Now and then they glanced back, but saw nothing to cause alarm,
and hope became stronger than before.

"We are doing remarkably well," said the husband, breaking the silence
for the first time in a half hour.

"Yes," was the thoughtful reply; "we must have travelled a good many
miles since the last start, and there is only one danger that troubles
me."

"What is that?"

"The probability--nay, the almost certainty--that we are not journeying
toward the fort."

"I have thought much of that," replied the husband, giving voice to a
misgiving that had disturbed him more than he was willing to admit; "it
is as you