the Fort. I cannot spare a permanent guard for this side of the river--a
scouting party up and down once a day is about the best I could do. We
have our hands full already."

"Live at the Fort----" Her lips tightened a little. She got up to walk.
She was thinking of the cold stares, the "Ahs," the "Ohs," and the
laughter of the post ladies in their bowling ambulance; the nudges and
the grins of the passing musicians; and "There's allus room at the Fort
when there's good-lookin' gals in the fambly."

She shook her head.

"You love your sister," he reminded. "Think of her."

"I _am_ thinking of her. I'd go to the Fort if there was danger.
But--answer me honest--outside of what's happened here, do you think
there's really any danger?"

"From Indians, you mean? Well, I'll tell you--this _was_ a complete
surprise, a shock to me. Because so far we haven't seen a sign of the
hostiles beyond that signal in the spring. North of here, at Lincoln,
they've shown themselves. But they're largely concentrated in the
northwest, to meet the troops."

"Then, there's no danger from Indians."

"Still, there might be, and I want you to come. Frankly, I've omitted to
tell you of one disquieting report that has reached us. After the recent
battle on the Rosebud, one of the warriors of Crazy Horse was captured
by General Crook. The prisoner said that within a day's ride to the west
of here, our--and your--aged friend----"

She stopped him, lifting her hands to her face. "Not him!" she
whispered; "not _him_! Oh, he was so good to us, Captain!"

Oliver sighed. "I fear it's so--yet it's only a report."

Some time went by. Meanwhile, she walked about the room in silence. Her
lips were trembling.

"You'll come?" he said.

"When you're sure"--she spoke with difficulty--"the Indians are going to
make trouble, I will. But--but I think I'd rather stay. I made dad a
promise once--I'd hate to break it--_now_."

"Your father didn't like us, I understand. I'm sorry. And of course you
feel that you should keep your promise to him. Well, I can send a convoy
with you to Bismarck."

"We haven't a cent. You see, I'm counting a heap on my garden."

"Oh, we would get something together for you."

She flinched. "No, I wouldn't like that. And dad'd hate it worse than if
I broke the promise. Besides, I'm going to pay back B Troop."

"B Troop! My troop? What do you owe B Troop?"

"Why, B Troop's been sending us its surplus rations."

"You sure