y father was guilty, and
yet at the same time a victim. I only got the truth in snatches, which
I had to piece together, although later I learned other details. Mrs.
Dupont had bled my father through some knowledge she had gained of his
sister's family. I cannot even imagine what this could have been, but
it was sufficient for her purpose. He gave her all he had, and
then--then she heard of this government money being sent to Ripley.
She had known about that for several days through the Lieutenant, and
had ample time to arrange the plot. My father must have been crazy to
have entered into the scheme, but he did, he did. The woman compelled
him to it."

"I understand, Molly," broke in Hamlin, anxious to spare her the
details. "They were to pretend robbery, but with the Major's
connivance. An officer impersonating him was despatched to Ripley by
stage. This would prevent any immediate pursuit. Later the Major was
to be released, to return to Dodge with his story. The projection of
yourself into the affair disarranged the entire plot, and then a
quarrel occurred, and your father was killed."

"Yes; it was over what should be done with me; although I believe now
they intended to kill him, so as to retain all the money. The older
Indian fired the shot treacherously."

"And Connors?"

"Dupont killed him; they were both drunk, and the soldier fired first,
but missed."

"And after that?"

She covered her face with her hands.

"It was all a dream of continuous horror, yet through it all, I do not
recall consciousness of physical torture. I seemed to be mentally
numbed, my brain a blank. It was a realization of my father's guilt
more than my own danger which affected me--that and his death. They
were not unkind nor brutal. Indeed I do not clearly recall that I was
even spoken to, except when some necessary order was given. One night
I heard them discuss what should be done with me; that I was to be
hidden away in Black Kettle's camp. Generally Dupont spoke to the
Indians in their own tongue, but that night he thought me asleep. I--I
had no hope left--not even faith that you could ever rescue me."

Hamlin's hand clasped hers firmly, but his eyes were riveted on
something in the distance.

"Wait," he said, checking his horse, "what is that? See; down in the
valley of the creek! Is it not a moving body of men?"

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE ADVANCE OF CUSTER

The Sergeant swung down from the saddle