Am I that to you?"

"That! Yes, and a thousand times more! I had ambition once,
opportunity, even wealth. They were swept away by a man's lie, a
woman's perfidy. Out of that wreck, I crawled into the world again a
mere thing. I lived simply because I must live, skulking in obscurity,
my only inspiration the hope of an honorable death or an opportunity
for vengeance. Mine was the life of the ranks in the desert,
associating with the lowest scum, in constant contact with savagery. I
could not speak to a decent woman, or be a man among men. There was
nothing left me but to brood over wrongs, and plot revenge. I became
morose, savage, a mere creature of discipline, food for powder. It was
no more when I first met you. But with that meeting the chains
snapped, the old ambitions of life returned. You were a mere girl from
the East; you did not understand, nor care about the snobbery of army
life. No, it was not that--you were above it. You trusted me, treated
me as a friend, almost as an equal. I loved you then, when we parted
on the trail, but I went back to New Mexico to fight fate. It was such
a hopeless dream, yet all summer long I rode with memory tugging at my
heart. I grew to hate myself, but could never forget you."

She drew nearer, her hand upon his arm, her face uplifted.

"And you thought I did not care?"

"How could I dream you did?" almost bitterly. "You were gracious,
kind--but you were a major's daughter, as far away from me as the
stars. I never heard from you; not even a rumor of your whereabouts
came to me across the plains. I supposed you had returned East; had
passed out of my life forever. Then that night when we rode into Dodge
I saw you again--saw you in the yellow lamp-light watching us pass,
heard you ask what troops those were, and I knew instantly all my
fighting out there in the desert had been vain--that you were forever
the one, one woman."

"I remained for that," she confessed softly, her lashes wet.

"At Dodge?"

"Yes, at Dodge. I knew you would come, must come. Some intuition
seemed to tell me that we should meet again. Oh, I was so happy the
night you came! No one had told me your troop had been ordered in. It
was like a dream come true. When I saw you leading your horse across
the parade I could hardly refrain from calling out to you before them
all. I did not care what they thought--for my soldier had come home
from the wars."

"Sweetheart," the deep v