us if he could. They are
afraid to stay about here any longer. Look how they are lashing those
ponies; there, the last of them are leaving."

They lay there in the sand, already becoming warm, under the rays of
the sun, trying to assure themselves that all danger of discovery had
vanished. There was no movement on the opposite shore, only the blue
spiral of smoke curling up against the bluff, marking where the stage
had stood. About this, outlined upon the brown grass, appeared darker
patches representing dead ponies and the bodies of Moylan and Gonzales
where they had been tumbled, scalped and otherwise mutilated. Down by
the river a wounded pony tried to follow the disappearing cavalcade,
but fell, giving vent to one scream of agony. Then all was silent,
motionless, the last straggler clubbing his horse pitilessly as he
vanished over the ridge.

Hamlin sat up, his eyes smiling.

"We are the lucky ones, Miss McDonald," he said, his manner
unconsciously more formal now that the danger had passed and a swift
realization of who his companion was recurring to his mind. "Something
must have frightened them." He shaded his eyes, staring at the bluffs
opposite, "But there is nothing in sight from here. Well, the best
thing we can do is to eat breakfast. May I have the haversack, and see
what it is stocked with?"

"Certainly not. There is so little I can do, I do not propose yielding
any prerogative." And she drew her head through the strap, letting the
leather bag fall to the sand. "I am afraid there is no cloth here.
Would you dare light a fire?"

"Hardly, even if we had fuel," he answered, watching her with interest.
She glanced up into his face, her cheeks reddening.

"Why don't you want me to do this?"

"How do you know I object? Indeed, it is quite pleasant to be waited
upon. Only, you see, it is very unusual for an officer's daughter to
take such good care of an enlisted man."

"But I am not thinking of that at all. You--this is different."

"For the moment, perhaps," just a slight bitterness in his tone, "and I
should enjoy it while I can."

She stopped in her work, sitting straight before him. Her eyes were
indignant, yet she stifled the first words that leaped to her lips.
His soft hat lay on the sand and the sun revealed his tanned face,
bringing out its strength.

"You--should n't say that," she faltered. "Surely you do not believe I
will ever become ungrateful."

"No; and yet grat