He, waking a little later, called to them in greeting and said: "Now all is quiet. The white men are sorry. You are safe. Go to Paul's, eat and get ready. We must start at once for the agency. Cut Finger did an ill deed, and brought trouble on us all. Now he is dead, but good may come out of it. Go, tell the little wife; be gentle with her; say to her I wish her to go home with us." Silently, soberly, the two redmen left the room, and Curtis dressed and went at once to find Calvin. The boy looked up as Curtis entered and cheerily called: "Hello, Major, I've had a lively dream. I dreamed there was some gun-play goin' on out in the square and you and I were in it. Was that right?" "I've a sore place here on my shoulder that says you are. How do you feel? Can you travel? If you can, I'll take you home in my buckboard." "I can travel all right, but I haven't any home to go to. The old man and I haven't hitched very well for a year, and this will just about turn me out on the range." "Well, come home with me, then; Jennie will soon have you all right again; she's a famous nurse, and will look out for you till your mother comes over, as she will. Mothers don't go back on their boys." A curious dimness came into the bold, keen eyes of the wounded youth. "Major, that'll suit me better than anything else I know." "Very well, if the doctor says you can travel, we'll go along together," replied Curtis. He was eager to see Elsie and was pacing impatiently up and down the hall when Lawson met him, smiling, imperturbable. "Well, Captain, how are you this morning?" "Have you seen Miss Brisbane?" "No; she is still asleep, I hope. The Senator is conscious, but in a curious state; seems not to know or care where he is; his troubles are over." Even as he spoke a maid came from Elsie's room to say that her mistress would breakfast in her own parlor, and wished both Mr. Lawson and Captain Curtis to join her in half an hour. Lawson, in discussing the events of the night, was decidedly optimistic. "This outbreak will bring about a reaction," he said, with conviction. "You will find every decent man on your side to-day." "I hope so," responded Curtis. "But last night's mob made me long for my Gray-Horse Troop." When they entered the little parlor Elsie rose and passed straight to Curtis without coquetry or concealment. "How is your wound? Did you sleep?" He assured her that he was almost as well as ever, and not till she had convinced herself of the truth did she turn to Lawson. "Osborne, I can never thank you enough for your good, kind help." Osborne protested that he had done nothing worth considering, and they took seats at the table--a subdued and quiet group, for Lawson was still suffering from his loss, and the lovers could not conceal from themselves the knowledge that this was their last meeting for many long months. Elsie was a being transformed, so tender, so wilful, so strangely sweet and womanly was she in every smile and in every gesture.