s, and she was
sure she had heard shots. Mrs. Davies admitted that here she protested
against going back, so terribly was she frightened, but Mrs. Darling
said that they must do so and Willett said that they must, and go they
did, only to find the spot abandoned. Even when Willett called for
Sanders there was no answer, and then they were dreadfully alarmed for
fear he had met with violence, and Mrs. Darling took the reins while
Willett searched, and Mrs. Davies, as she admitted, cowered under the
buffalo robe, and then, all on a sudden, they heard the sound of angry
voices, heard some one furiously denouncing Mr. Willett for lashing a
gentleman with his whip, heard Willett curse the stranger for flashing a
match purposely to frighten his horses,--some sneering reply to the
effect that a man had a right to light a cigar on a public road, then
Willett's voice calling the man a liar, then heavy blows and scuffle,
and then Sanders came running up the road just in time, for the stranger
had Mr. Willett down in the snow and was throttling him. He sprang up
and dashed into the willows the instant he heard Sanders's voice, and
that was the last seen of him, for Sanders's first care was for the
civilian, who was bruised and choked, but, after all, not seriously
hurt. He helped Willett back to his seat, bade him drive the ladies at
once to the fort, but said he was going after those marauders, for two
at least were soldiers. That was all. When Willett and Mr. Darling drove
back they found that he had captured Paine, too drunk to run well, and
that the others were gone. Next morning Trooper Howard was reported
absent, and that settled the identity of the man in civilian dress. Mr.
Willett had not been out at the post since the affair simply because he
was nursing a black eye and a sprained thumb.

What Mrs. Darling and Mrs. Stone couldn't understand was what could
possibly have prompted the man Howard to stand right on that little
bank, close to the track, and there flash his phosphorus match. He must
have known it would scare the horses even if it did not terrify the
people. It was a reckless, diabolical thing to do, and then to think of
his daring to strike and beat Mr. Willett afterwards. Mrs. Darling was
full of indignation at his conduct; Mira was agitated, but had little to
say. She was thinking of the cross-questioning that was inevitable when
her supporters were gone.

And now, sitting there in Sanders's easy-chair, Davi