was a man who never let go. "I hate to have you leave just now,"
he said to Davies, "for I know we shall need you presently."

But once more there was a week of no communication with the Ogallalla
agency. Three days of blizzard and three of repairs before the flimsy
telegraph line could be used again. Mrs. Davies, busily occupied in
putting her new house in order, was aided by Mrs. McPhail and one of the
ladies from the cantonment, who, happening to be visiting the agent's
wife when the storm broke, found it pleasanter to remain there than go
back to the log huts across that mile of blast-swept prairie. The
Indians, with the stoicism of their race, huddled in their foul, smoky
tepees instead of swarming about the agency, and except Davies's
detachment none of the command appeared. It was therefore a rather busy
time for Mira, as there was abundant opportunity for conversation, and
both Mrs. McPhail and Mrs. Plodder rejoiced in so interested a listener.
The three seemed to be getting along together famously, a fact which
Davies noted with the same half-dreamy, half-amused smile. It was a
relief in seeing her really interested in setting her little house to
rights, but it was as evidently a relief to her that the otherwise
inevitable visitors were blockaded by the storm. Davies really did not
know which she dreaded most, the Cranstons or the Indians.

It was the latter who were the first to call. The gale went down with
the sun one night, and the morning dawned clear and fine. Up with the
sun, true to his cavalry teaching, Davies had been out superintending
the grooming and feeding of his horses. He and Mira were at breakfast
and Mrs. Plodder had come to help. Trooper Gaffney was the household
cook for the time being, and a good one. The coffee was excellent,
despite the fact that Gaffney could get no cream, and condensed milk was
the only substitute obtainable. The steak was juicy and tender, as the
finest of the contractor's beef was sure to go to the agency itself, and
Gaffney's soda biscuits were enticing, whatsoever might be the
after-effect. The two ladies were chatting in very good spirits when one
considers the depths of woe from which Mira had so recently emerged, and
the lieutenant was beginning to take some comfort in the outlook, when
all on a sudden Mira turned a chalky white, screamed violently, and
cowered almost under the table, her face hidden in her hands. Davies's
instant thought was of the repeated whi