"Phil Danvers," he said, moistening his dry lips as his rage increased, "as true as they's a God above I'll pay yeh back for interferin' to-night. I've hated yeh from the first time I set eyes on yeh! 'F I live I'll make yeh feel what hate'll do! Yeh're too good fer the Whoop Up Country, an' I've got a long score to settle with yeh! 'F ever white women come to this country an' yeh git a sweetheart I'll do my best to separate yeh! 'F yeh've got a sister I'll have her! I'll--I'll--God! But I hate yeh!" [Illustration] Chapter III. The Hot Blood of Youth The spring warmed into summer, the summer melted into autumn. Autumn, in turn, chilled into the white world of winter. All thoughts of the little girl on the _Far West_ had slipped from the mind of Danvers, and even the memory of Miss Thornhill became faint--obliterated by the strenuous life of the service. Promotion came in his third year of service as a reward for intelligence and efficiency. Danvers was offered and accepted a commission. He felt that life was good. Fears and homesickness had long since disappeared; the longings for other and more congenial, refined and feminine associates came but seldom; still, the desire for the understanding of one alone, for a loved wife and a son to bear his name was not dead--it was simply dormant in that womanless land. "The doctor will be here next week," announced Arthur Latimer, who had been bookkeeper in one of the trading-posts ever since he had come to Macleod, soon after Danvers was made a second lieutenant. "Colonel Macleod, I hear, has invited quite a party to visit him from Fort Benton." "Yes. I heard from the doctor, too." Philip smiled at thought of his friend's surprise at his new rank. It was not long before the visitors arrived, and, greatly to Danvers' surprise, Miss Thornhill, accompanied by her father, the major, was among them. The first white woman that he had seen for three years! He had never before realized how dainty a lady is in comparison with her sisters of the lodges. They may be kin in the world relationship, but, oh! the difference one from the other. The squaws, standing stolidly by, were intolerable. As Eva walked consciously past with Colonel Macleod, attended by the staff officers, she gave no sign of recognition other than a heightened color and lowered eye-lashes; but Philip felt that she recognized him. Before the girl reached the barracks Mr. Burroughs entered the stockade. With the assurance of a favored acquaintance, he advanced and pressed the hand of Miss Thornhill.