ach can't run away if he
wants to, and you can't fall out into a drift."

Not a word from the others checked her cheery stream of comment.
However, breakfast past, and Dallas in the lean-to, David Bond managed
to make a declaration. It was when he saw Lancaster take down the Sharps
from its pegs by the mantel. "That should stay behind," he said,
touching the rifle. "We are leaving your helpless girls alone. At least
they should have something for defence."

Lancaster instantly agreed, observing to himself that the evangelist,
after all, had some common sense. "Shore," he replied, "Ah'll put th'
gun back an' we'll take yourn."

But he was corrected with severity. "I carry no weapons, sir," said
David Bond. "I stand for peace."

"Then th' gun goes," declared the section-boss. "The gals was alone
before 'thout it. They was no snow on th' groun' then, an' a heap more
chance of someone comin'. They ain't no danger. An' ef Ah take th' gun,
mebbe Ah c'n git a deer on th' way back. We need th' meat."

The evangelist considered a moment. "Very well," he said; "but I would
advise differently."

"Aw, shucks!" retorted the other, struggling with his coat.

A moment later, his irritation was increased. At the same time the
visitor unknowingly covered himself forever with suspicion. Through the
frosty air and the darkness rang out the first trumpet blast from
Brannon. And, as if totally unconscious of the action, David Bond
reached up and bared his head.

"I love that summons," he said; "it bids our good lads wake and do their
duty."

Lancaster was not unmindful of the courtesy due a guest. But any
reference to patriotism was offensive, and he had been particularly
provoked. So, behind the broad shoulders of the other he disdainfully
turned up his nose.

They were off at last, with Marylyn watching them from a window, and
Dallas walking alongside for a few rods to say good-by and to pat
Shadrach's bony, white flanks encouragingly. Morning was stealing up the
dun east, yet overhead the stars were shining. And their near radiance,
reflected upon the snow, coupled with the light of the slowly growing
dawn, made it possible for the girls to follow the travellers' straight
course for miles. But long after Marylyn left the window, the elder girl
remained outside. The dun of the east was painted out with uprushing
waves of pink. The stars sank back into the heavens, grew smaller and
dimmer, and, one by one, disappeared. Finally