God! you talk about fighting--why there are
fifty Indians out there. Wait till they find out what has happened to
me. Oh, I'll watch you die at the stake, you sneaking white cur, and
spit in your face!"

"Kirby," I said sternly, but quietly, stepping directly across toward
him, "I've heard what you said, and that is enough. You are a
prisoner, and helpless, but I am going to tell you now to hold your
tongue. Otherwise you will never see me at the stake, because I shall
blow your brains out where you lie. One more word, and I am going to
rid this world of its lowest specimen of a human being."

"You dare not do--"

"And why not? You promise me death either way; what have I to lose
then by sending you first? It will rid the girl of you, and that means
something to me--and her. Just try me, and see."

He must have read the grim meaning in my face, for he fell back against
the log, muttering incoherently, his dark eyes wells of hate, his face
a picture of malignancy, but utterly helpless--the lurking coward in
him, unable to face my threat. I left him and stooped above her.

"We shall be busy presently; the delay cannot be much longer. I am
afraid that fellow may succeed somehow in doing us harm. He is crazed
enough to attempt anything. May I trust you to guard him?"

Her eyes, absolutely fearless and direct, looked straight up into mine.

"Yes, he will make no movement I shall not see. Tell me; do you
believe there is hope?"

"God knows. We shall do our best. If the worst comes--what?"

"Do not fear for me; do not let any memory of me turn you aside from
your work," she said quietly. "I know what you mean and pledge you I
shall never fall into his hands. It--it cannot be wrong, I am sure,
and--and I must tell you that. I--I could not, Steven, for--for I love
you."

My eager hands were upon hers, my eyes greedily reading the message
revealed so frankly in the depths of her own. She only was in my
thoughts; we were there alone--alone.

"They're a comin', Cap," yelled Kennedy and his rifle cracked. "By
God! they're here!"

With one swift spring I was back at my deserted post and firing. Never
before had I been in an Indian battle, but they had told me at
Armstrong that the Sacs were fighting men. I knew it now. This was to
be no play at war, but a grim, relentless struggle. They came en
masse, rushing recklessly forward across the open space, pressing upon
each other in headlong desire