eading to the fort corral, Aunty Boone was crooning a weird African
melody. Crouching in the deep shadows beside the kitchen entrance, the
Indian boy, Santan, listened to all that was said.

To-night we had talked of to-morrow's journey, and the strength of the
military guard who should keep us safe along the way. Then, as children
will, we began to speculate on what should follow for us.

"When I get older I'm going to be a freighter like Jondo, Bill and me.
We'll kill every Indian who dares to yell along the trail. I'm going
back to Santa Fe and kill that boy that stared at me like he was crazy
one day at Agua Fria."

In the shadows of the porchway, I saw Santan creeping nearer to us as
Beverly ran on flippantly:

"I guess I'll marry a squaw, Little Blue Flower, maybe, like the Bents
do, and live happily ever after."

"I'm going to have a big fine house and live there all the time," Mat
Nivers declared. Something in the earnest tone told us what this long
journey had meant to the brave-hearted girl.

"I'm going to marry Gail when I grow up," Eloise said, meditatively. "He
won't ever let Marcos pull my hair." She shook back the curly tresses,
gold-gleaming in the moonlight, and squeezed my hand as she sat beside
me.

"What will you be, Gail?" Mat asked.

"I'll go and save Bev's scalp when he's gunning too far from home," I
declared.

"Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos cuss's nose
if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as Aunty Boone would say,"
Beverly broke in.

I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I would
have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we talked together
as boys do, in the confidences they never give to anybody else.

A gray shadow dropped on the moon, and a chill night wind crept down
inside the walls. A sudden fear fell on us. The noises inside the
billiard room seemed far away, and all the doors except ours were
closed. Santan had crept between us and the two open doorways leading to
our rooms. What if he should slip inside. A snake would have seemed
better to me.

A silence had fallen on us, and Eloise still clung to my hand. I held it
tightly to assure her I wasn't afraid, but I could not speak nor move.
Aunty Boone's crooning voice was still, and everything had grown weird
and ghostly. The faint wailing cry of some wild thing of the night
plains outside crept to our ears, making us shiver.

"When the stars go to s