He moved silently in the shadows of buildings, making his way toward the adobe shack that was dignified by the title of Headquarters. Once he was compelled to stop for several minutes in the dense shadow at the end of a building as he saw two figures approaching slowly. Nearer and nearer they came. Shoz-Dijiji saw that one was an officer, a war chief of the pindah-lickoyee, and the other was a woman. They were talking earnestly. When they were quite close to Shoz-Dijiji the white officer stopped and laid a hand upon the arm of his companion. “Wait, Wichita,” he said. “Before we go in can’t you give me some hope for the future? I’m willing to wait. Don’t you think that some day you might care for me a little?” The girl walked on, followed by the man. “I care for you a great deal, Ad,” Shoz-Dijiji heard her say in a low voice just before the two passed out of his hearing; “but I can never care for you in the way you wish.” That, Shoz-Dijiji did not hear. “You love someone else?” he asked. In the darkness he did not see the hot flush that overspread her face as she replied. “I am afraid so,” she said. “Afraid so! What do you mean?” “It is something that I cannot tell you, Ad. It hurts me to talk about it.” “Does he know that you love him?” “No.” “Is it any one I know?” “Please, Ad, I don’t like to talk about it.” Lieutenant Samuel Adams King walked on in silence at the girl’s side until they reached Mrs. Cullis’ door. “I’m going to wait—and hope, Chita,” he said just before they entered the house. Captain Cullis had not returned, and the three sat and chatted for a few minutes; but it was evident to Margaret Cullis that something had occurred to dash the spirits of her young guests, nor was she at a loss to guess the truth. Being very fond of them both, believing that they were eminently suited to one another, and, above all, being a natural born match-maker, Margaret Cullis was determined to leave no stone unturned that might tend toward a happy consummation of her hopes. “You know that Chita is leaving us in the morning?” she asked King, by way of inaugurating her campaign. “Why, no,” he exclaimed, “she did not tell me.” “I should have told you before you left,” said the girl. “I wouldn’t go without saying good-bye, you know.” “I should hope not,” said King. “She really should not take that long ride alone,” volunteered Mrs. Cullis. “It is nothing,” exclaimed Wichita. “I’ve been riding alone ever since I can recall.” “Of course she shouldn’t,” said King. “It’s not safe. I’ll get leave to ride home with you. May I?” “I’d love to have you, but really it’s not necessary.” “I think it is,” said King. “I’ll go over to headquarters now and arrange it. I think there’ll be no objections raised.” “I’m leaving pretty early,” warned Wichita. “What time?” “Five o’clock.” “I’ll be here!” [Illustration: Standing in his stirrups, he swung his rope.] Chapter Four