"I was in Sulphur City, and did not hear of it till it was nearly all over," Redfield resumed, his speech showing a little of the excitement which thrilled through the girl's voice. "Well, the first act of vengeance was so ill-considered that it practically ended the whole campaign. The invaders fell upon and killed two ranchers--one of whom was probably not a rustler at all, but a peaceable settler, and the other one they most barbarously hanged. More than this, they attacked and vainly tried to kill two settlers whom they met on the road--German farmers, with no connection, so far as known, with the thieves. These men escaped, and gave the alarm. In a few hours the whole range was aflame with vengeful fire. The Forks, as you may recall, was like a swarm of bumblebees. Every man and boy was armed and mounted. The storekeepers distributed guns and ammunition, leaders developed, and the embattled 'punkin rollers,' rustlers, and townsmen rode out to meet the invaders." The girl paled with memory of it. "It was terrible! I went all day without eating, and for two nights we were all too excited to sleep. It seemed as if the world were coming to an end. Mother cried because they wouldn't let her go with them. She didn't know father was leading the other army." "She must have known soon, for it was reported that your father was among them. She certainly knew when they were driven to earth in that log fort, for they were obliged to restrain her by force from going to your father. As I run over those furious days it all seems incredible, like a sudden reversal to barbarism." "How did it all end? The soldiers came, didn't they?" "Yes; the long arm of Uncle Sam reached out and took hold upon the necks of both parties. I guess your father and his band would have died right there had not the regular army interfered. It only required a sergeant wearing Uncle Sam's uniform to come among those armed and furious cowboys and remove their prisoners." "I saw that. It was very strange--that sergeant was so young and so brave." He turned and smiled at her. "Do you know who that was?" Her eyes flashed. She drew her breath with a gasp. "Was it Mr. Cavanagh?" "Yes, it was Ross. He was serving in the regular army at the time. He has told me since that he felt no fear whatever. 'Uncle Sam's blue coat was like Siegfried's magic armor,' he said; 'it was the kind of thing the mounted police of Canada had been called upon to do many a time, and I went in and got my men.' That ended the war, so far as violent measures went, and it really ended the sovereignty of the cattle-man. The power of the 'nester' has steadily increased from that moment." "But my father--what became of him? They took him away to the East, and that is all I ever knew. What do you think became of him?"