her with a small squad of cavalrymen, retained for courier
service. His only remaining commissioned officer at the post was the
partially disabled cavalry captain, acting temporarily as adjutant,
because incapacitated for taking the field. He had waited until the
last possible moment, trusting that a shift in conditions might bring
back some available officer. Now he had to choose between his duty as
commander and as father. Further delay was impossible.

Devere was a fort merely by courtesy. In reality it consisted only of
a small stockade hastily built of cottonwood timber, surrounding in
partial protection a half dozen shacks, and one fairly decent log
house. The situation was upon a slight elevation overlooking the ford,
some low bluffs, bare of timber but green with June grass to the
northward, while in every other direction extended an interminable
sand-desert, ever shifting beneath wind blasts, presenting as desolate
a scene as eye could witness. The yellow flood of the river, still
swollen by melting mountain snow, was a hundred feet from the stockade
gate, and on its bank stood the log cavalry stables. Below, a scant
half mile away, were the only trees visible, a scraggly grove of
cottonwoods, while down the face of the bluff and across the flat ran
the slender ribbon of trail. Monotonous, unchanging, it was a desolate
picture to watch day after day in the hot summer.

In the gloom following an early supper the two officers sat together in
the single room of the cabin, a candle sputtering on the table behind
them, smoking silently or moodily discussing the situation. McDonald
was florid and heavily built, his gray mustache hanging heavily over a
firm mouth, while the Captain was of another type, tall, with dark eyes
and hair. The latter by chance opened the important topic.

"By the way, Major," he said carelessly, "I guess it is just as well
you stopped your daughter from coming out to this hole. Lord, but it
would be an awful place for a woman."

"But I did n't," returned the other moodily. "I put it off too long."

"Put it off! Good heavens, man, did n't you write when you spoke about
doing so? Do you actually mean the girl is coming--here?"

McDonald groaned.

"That is exactly what I mean, Travers. Damme, I have n't thought of
anything else for a week. Oh, I know now I was an old fool even to
conceive of such a trip, but when I first wrote her I had no conception
of what it was going