ne hadn't given us our 'forward march!'
orders, and an Indian boy, ten feet high and sneaky as a cat, hadn't
been lurking in the middle distance to pluck _me_ as a brand _for_ the
burning. And now you are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How
did you ever get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"

Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but at the
mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright face became
expressionless.

Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth the
way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a visit.

"We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on, gaily.
"Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse packing
merchandise for the Santa Fe trade. Even big black Aunty Boone, getting
supper in there, is still a feature of this circus. If only that slim
Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to
be here soon, and if all goes well he will go with us to Santa Fe again.
How about it, Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"

But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below us. Her
wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were pink with
excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane striding up the hill,
with the easy swing of vigorous health. No longer the slender, slouching
young idol of my boyhood days, with Eastern cut of garment and
devil-may-care dejection of manner, all hiding a loving tenderness for
the unprotected, and a daring spirit that scorned danger.

"It's the old settlers' picnic, eh! The gathering of the wild
tribes--anything you want to call it, so we smoke the peace pipe."

Rex greeted all of us as we rushed upon him. But the first hands he
reached for were the hands of our loving big sister Mat. And he held
them close in his as he looked down into her beautiful eyes.

A sudden rush of memories brought back to me the long days on the trail
in the middle '40's, and I knew now why he had always looked at Mat when
he talked to all of us. And I used to think that he must have had a
little sister like her. Now I knew in an instant why Mat could not meet
his eyes to-day with that unconcern with which she met them when she was
a child to me, and he, all of five years ahead of her, was very grown
up. I knew more, for I had entered a new land myself since the hour by
the shimmering Flat Rock in the Moon of the Peach Blossom, and I was
alive