all make this journey," continues the captain. "There's no need for any
more than our own boys, the Rangers, and such of the settlers as may
choose to go with us. The rest, who have to look after the women, and
some for driving back the stock, can make their way home at once. I
reckon we've left the track pretty clear of Indians, and they'll be in
no further danger from them."

Without further discussion, this arrangement is decided upon; and the
two parties commence making the preparations suitable to their
respective plans.

In less than half an hour after they separate; the settlers, with the
women, children, and cattle, wending their way eastward; while the
Rangers, guided by the renegade, ride off in the opposite direction--
toward the Llano Estacado.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A PROPOSAL BY PROXY.

Day by day Hamersley grows stronger, and is able to be abroad.

Soon after Wilder, plucking him by the sleeve, makes request to have his
company at some distance from the dwelling.

Hamersley accedes to the request, though not without some surprise. In
the demeanour of his comrade there is an air of mystery. As this is
unusual with the ex-Ranger, he has evidently something of importance to
communicate.

Not until they have got well out of sight of the house, and beyond the
earshot of anyone inside or around it, does Walt say a word. And then
only after they have come to a stop in the heart of a cotton-wood copse,
where a prostrate trunk offers them the accommodation of a seat.

Sitting down upon it, and making sign to Hamersley, still with the same
mysterious air, to do likewise, the backwoodsman at length begins to
unburden himself.

"Frank," says he, "I've brought ye out hyar to hev a little spell o'
talk, on a subjeck as consarns this coon consid'able."

"What subject, Walt?"

"Wal, it's about a wumman."

"A woman! Why, Walt Wilder, I should have supposed that would be the
farthest thing from your thoughts, especially a such a time and in such
a place as this."

"True it shed, as ye say. For all that, ef this chile don't
misunnerstan' the sign, a wumman ain't the furrest thing from yur
thoughts, at the same time an' place."

The significance of the observation causes the colour to start to the
cheeks of the young prairie merchant, late so pale. He stammers out an
evasive rejoinder,--

"Well, Walt; you wish to have a talk with me. I'm ready to hear what
you have to say. Go on! I'm lis