to him and followed the direction of his gaze. "Why,
it's men, pa," she said.

"Certainly, it's men," he agreed pettishly. "But w'at _kin'_ o' men?
_Thet's_ w'at Ah kain't see."

Marylyn shook her head. Then, as she bent her look inquiringly toward
the far-away camp, a horseman suddenly left it and started on a gallop
toward them. "One's coming this way fast!" she exclaimed, and rushed
back into the shack for her bonnet.

Lancaster and his younger daughter commented excitedly as the rider
approached. One troop of cavalry had remained at Brannon throughout the
summer to give protection to the wives and children of officers and
enlisted men. The remaining troops belonging at the fort were away on
Indian service. They were to return soon, and the section-boss believed
he saw in the nearing traveller the herald of the home-coming force.
Marylyn, however, was just as certain that Indians were about to
surround them, and hastily brought out the gun. But Dallas wasted no
time in conjectures. She touched up Ben and Betty and finished her round
of the plowed land. Not till the stranger was close did she stop at the
eastern end of the field and wait, leaning on the cross-bar.

He came forward in a sharp canter, keeping a regular tap upon the flanks
of his mount with the end of a lariat. His careless seat in the saddle
and the fact that he wore no spurs told Dallas that he was not a
trooper, though across the lessening distance now between them his dress
of blue shirt, dark breeches and high boots, crowned by a wide, soft
hat, was not unlike a campaign uniform. At his approach, Ben and Betty
became lazily interested and raised their long ears to the front; Simon
advanced a little and took a determined stand beside Dallas, who hung
her lines on the plow-handles and prepared to greet the horseman.

The instant he reached her, he halted abruptly beside the mules and
bared his head. "Good-morning," he said with cheery politeness; but his
swift glance over team, plow, and girl showed a surprise that was almost
pity.

She saw his look, and the colour swept up under the tan of her face.
"How d' y' do," she answered.

"I'm John Lounsbury from Clark's," he began. "I've been supplying that
crowd back there with feed and grub for a couple of weeks." He nodded
toward the distant men and horses. "May I ask--I--I didn't know any
women folks had settled----"

She faced him squarely for a moment, and he met her eyes. They were
grey, wi