"Mr. Bond said we'd have good luck here," she went on despairingly. "But there _was_ danger by night, wasn't there? There _was_ danger!" "She's knocked silly," Oliver murmured to the surgeon. "The child doesn't know what she's saying." "You're right. Clean blunted," was the answer. "But I'll straighten 'em both out by noon." A long halloo summoned the captain to the door. A group of men were gathered in the swale between the shack and Shanty Town. Fraser was among them. Oliver signalled, and the young officer wheeled and came galloping in. "What is it?" "Old man's gun, discharged, out there in the grass----" "Yes?" "And two sets of footprints coming and going across that bit of low ground. One set looks about two days old, and was made by boots. Other is newer, and made by moccasins." "Ah!" "There's something strange about these last: Coming this way, the marks are so light you can hardly see 'em; going back, they're sunk way down." "Carried a load, eh?" "It looks like it." Oliver mounted, and they rode off to the swale. Noon was past when the captain called at the shack again. He found the surgeon gone, but his promise fulfilled: Food and medicine had gone far to revive his patients physically; tears had mercifully combined with returning strength to right their minds. This time, the elder girl met Oliver with no incoherence, but with brave quiet. All her self-command had returned. She asked him in, and showed a tender forethought for Marylyn by sending her out into the sunshine and the garden before she listened to what he had to tell. When he was done, she began her story with the finding of the pole. "Redskins!" he exclaimed. "Boot-marks were around it, though," she said. "You are sure? I wish your father had asked my advice. I feel as if I had come short in my duty." "Please don't," she entreated. "You see, we thought we could tend to it--long's we knew who it was." He turned astonished eyes upon her. "Knew!" he exclaimed. "Well, for Heaven's sake out with it, then!" "Matthews--he wanted the land." "The interpreter! But last night's tracks were made by moccasins. There's one Indian free----" She let him get no further. "It's not Charley," she declared. "Matthews meant us to think it was Indians. Moccasins are easy to get." "That's true." He frowned. "Hm!--Well, I shall inquire into his whereabouts during the last two days." And the captain fell to studying the figures on the Navajos. Outside, Lieutenant Fraser was passing the shack. He rode on to the cornfield, where he flung himself off his horse. "Marylyn! Marylyn!" he said tremblingly. "You poor girl! I'm so sorry--What can I say? It's my fault." She lifted a scared face to his. "No, it's mine," she answered; "if I'd told Dallas about you, we'd never 'a' gone to Clark's----" "Thank goodness you did! But if your father had known about me--if I could have come to the house. I must after this. We'll tell your sister about us now. Come on."