“Don’t begrudge him to us, Miss Christine. John won’t leave you all alone. I shouldn’t wonder if he could get old Pedro Garcia and his daughter to come stay on the rancho. There’s the empty cabin, you know.” “Steve’s cabin?” Christine shook her head in opposition to the suggestion. “It ain’t any use to have it stand there and fall to pieces, is it?” he said. “I wish to heavens Steve was still in it, but if he was here he’d be going off, too, to this war, and you’d have that trouble to face. There’s no good looking behind. The best way is to let what’s gone lie still and keep on a-stepping forward.” Christine sighed. “I can’t look forward with much joy unless I let myself believe that Steve will come back.” “Don’t do any harm to believe it.” “Do you think there is the slightest hope?” “Of course there’s a chance, not much of a one, I’ll admit, but Steve was a good fighter.” “Was? Can’t you say _is_?” “I’ll say it till I have to say _was_. We’ve always been good friends, Steve and I. He’s spoken of you to me,” added Neal a little hesitatingly. “I felt sure of that, and it is why I have always felt that I could talk to you more freely.” Neal’s happy smile brightened his face. “That’s right. I want you to feel that you can do that. I know how Steve looked forward to your coming and what his dreams were. I know that we hadn’t a man in the country that I’d rather call my friend than Steve Hayward. Now, Miss Christine, don’t let your feelings interfere with the needs of our army. We want John and you must let him go. That little sister of yours has grit; she’ll stand by you.” “Alison? She is still such a child. She doesn’t know the troubles that lie in wait for us; she doesn’t understand the bitterness of disappointment.” “She’s got the grit to stand it when it comes, and that red-headed Lou of yours ain’t far behind her. She don’t stand at anything. I’d as lief have her about as a man.” “I suppose I do seem very foolish, a silly, weak sort of creature, to you,” returned Christine with a little show of petulance. “No, I can’t say that,” returned Neal candidly, “but I think you let yourself mope too much. You’re the oldest; you owe it to that little sister of yours to brace up and get through this with all the courage that’s in you. I’m pretty free-spoken, I know, Miss Christine, but--it hurts a fellow to see a girl like you spending her life pining after what can’t be helped.” He drew out his bowie-knife and fell to examining the keen blade, and then John came in. “Well, it’s come, has it?” was John’s greeting. Neal nodded. “Then I’m off with the rest.” “But not yet, not just yet,” pleaded Christine.