she was
strangely calm and unafraid.

"Marylyn'll be happy," she said. "I know John Lounsbury well enough for
that."

She became conscious of thirst. A branch of wild roses, shining with
raindrops, bobbed above her. She bent the flowers to her mouth, one by
one, and sucked their moisture.

She looked to the front again, across the spreading meadow. She heard
the cheeps of awakening birds, and small movements in trees and grass.
The grey of the sky was turning to pink. There was a lifting fore-glow
in the east.

"See, Charley," she said, "there'll be good light to fight in. But--but
there's just one charge."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

FRASER HEARS A CALL

As each man of the rescuing party splashed out upon the sandy beach
before Shanty Town, he headed for the open level. There was no waiting
for commands, no attempt at order; only the sound of laboured breathing,
of frantic urging, of the plying of heel and fist. Butchery threatened,
and a wasted moment might be the one that could have stayed the knife.

Crossing the Bend, the company was strung to a long, bedrabbled line. It
was slow going. Already the horses had stood hard usage--the detour with
Matthews, the return, and the severely trying swim. Fraser, given the
lead, still kept it, dinging hoarse persuasion into "Buckskin's"
flattened ears.

So far, the troopers had kept silent through fear for the girls'
safety--fear that the hostages, if aware of pursuit, would wreak instant
death. But now, as their lieutenant advanced to the shack, the men
behind, while trying their utmost to gain, sent forward yell upon yell
to startle the Indians into dropping their captives and seeking cover.

No whoops replied, but from the doorway, unheard, the voice of a man,
"Oliver--Oliver!--here!"

As the line swung up, and by, in a circle, Fraser, weapon in hand, was
down and pressing forward.

He found Lounsbury, seated on the sill, from which he rose unsteadily.

"Lounsbury! Lounsbury!"

"Quick--the coulee! They went that way--Give me a lift!"

His hand was wet. Fraser caught him about the waist.

"Oh, you're wounded!"

"Yes,--glancing blow. But I tied it up."

"Lounsbury? Wounded?" It was Oliver.

"Up the coulee, Captain! Give me a horse."

The captain turned, shouting orders. The other tried to follow, Fraser
supporting him.

"Here, somebody, a horse for Lounsbury."

A third man dismounted--Jamieson. He put a rope in Fraser's hand.

"Take my horse," he