h
and steered him toward it, pausing only long enough for the Indian to
load the chip-sack and the filled blanket on top of the wheels and hay.

"If this lonely house will give me shelter and welcome," vowed David
Bond, urging his horse on, "it will find me grateful."

Squaw Charley made no answering sign. Bundled again in the soft quilt,
he sat in the wagon-box, brooding. For he had divined, with the instinct
of the savage, that if the shack on the rise before them would find a
faithful friend in him who sat beneath the wavering cross, it was
threatened by the presence of a dangerous foe--the man just come to the
shanty saloon by the river.

CHAPTER VII

OUT OF THE SKY

When four distinct raps--Squaw Charley's familiar signal--sounded upon
the outer battens of the warped door, Dallas drew back the iron bolt
eagerly, caught the lantern that lighted the dim room from its high nail
above the hearth, and held it over her head. Then, standing in the
opening, with the icy wind fluttering the wide flame till it leaped and
smoked in its socket, she met, not the faltering eyes of the faithful
Indian, but the piercing gaze of aged David Bond.

She fell back and let the lantern drop to her waist. There she held it,
her fingers trembling despite her effort to appear calm. Many days and
nights she had waited expectantly for the man who, by voice and fist,
had displayed an enmity toward them; she had pictured his arrival, or
that of his emissary, and planned what she would say and do. Now,
certain that he had come at last--after she had long ceased to watch for
him--and reading justice and fearlessness in the stern visage before
her, she was dumb and helpless.

Her father's voice, rising from the hearth-side, brought her to action.
"Wal! wal!" he was saying, "don' keep th' door open all night."

With a defiant step forward, and as if to bar intrusion, she spread out
her arms. "You're here," she said in a low tone.

Dallas' words did not penetrate the head-covering worn by David Bond;
and the fire having died down for lack of fuel, the interior of the
shack was so dark that he could see only her gesture. He thought her
alone and frightened.

"Have no fear, daughter," he begged. "I will go somewhere else. But the
ice is so----"

His gentle address surprised and disarmed her. She advanced relentingly
as her father came up behind.

"W'y--a stranger?" cried the section-boss.

She stopped him. "Yes, but we wouldn'