As the young men looked toward the riders, whose mounts were close together and walking slowly, a dark face, with passionate eyes gleaming, pushed cautiously out from the sheltering branches, and Pine Coulee also watched the unconscious maid and the trader. * * * * * When Colonel Macleod, wishing to impress his American visitors, ordered the troops under his command to go through their cavalry exercises, Miss Thornhill sat on a glossy mare beside him, while troopers passed at a walk or trot, and wondered why she had found it so difficult to meet Lieutenant Danvers. As the lines of superb and faultlessly groomed men and horses swept past on the last mad gallop she forgot her brooding and clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Oh, Colonel Macleod! That was splendid! Make them go on, and on!" she cried. "Why, of course, if you wish," assented the gallant Macleod, forgetting that the rise of ground directly in front of him had the river on its farther slope. "Phat's the colonel thinkin' of?" growled O'Dwyer, as no halt sounded. "He's not thinkin' at all!" responded the man next in alignment, sourly. "A man can't think when a slip of a girl's near by." "He's forgot the river!" groaned the fleshy Irishman, dreading the certain plunge. Into the stream they dashed, many of the men over their heads, for there was no turning back. As the horses balked, Lieutenant Danvers' stallion threshed viciously, hitting O'Dwyer, and then ceased to swim. O'Dwyer groaned, "Me a-r-rm!" It was over in an instant. Those on shore assisted Danvers and the Irishman to land. O'Dwyer was left in Philip's care, while the rest of the men rode back, as the review must not be interrupted. Eva saw the break in the ranks. "Lieutenant Danvers has dropped out," she exclaimed, and straightway bit her lip. "Philip?" hastily asked the Fort Benton doctor, on a horse near by. "Then there has been an accident!" The sergeant-major rode up to report, but the impulsive Eva did not wait for details. She touched her mare and was after the doctor. "I'm so sorry!" cried the girl, as she met Danvers and O'Dwyer returning. "It's all my fault that you are wet--and hurt! Which one is hurt?" She turned provocative eyes to the dripping lieutenant. "O'Dwyer has a sprained elbow," answered Philip, his heart dancing at her solicitude. "It was through my carelessness." "Don't ye be belavin' a wor-rd he says, miss!" burst out O'Dwyer. "That is (beggin' yer pardon fer spakin' to the loikes of yez, an' me a private!), don't ye belave 'tis his fault. He kep' me from drownin', that's what he did!" O'Dwyer had noted his idol's preoccupation since Miss Thornhill's advent, the self-imposed aloofness, and had drawn his own shrewd conclusions. He determined, here and now, to do Danvers a good turn, despite the frown on the doctor's face and Philip's frantic signaling. "Lieutenant Danvers is the finest feller God ever made!" he blurted, regardless.