"Where are they?" she asked, only to exclaim, and shrink closer to him at the sight of one lying a few rods away, in that sprawling limp posture of those who fall by violence. "There were only four of them--there the other two go." He pointed down the little swale where the tall grass was still green. Macdonald's horse had fallen to grazing there, his master's perils and escapes all one to him now. It threw its head up and stood listening, trotted a little way and stopped, ears stiff, nostrils stretched. "There's somebody coming," she said. "Yes--Chadron and a fresh gang, maybe." He sprang to the dugout door, where Frances' horse stood with its head out inquiringly. "Jump up--quick!" he said, bringing the horse out. "Go this time, Frances; don't hang back a second more!" "Never mind, Alan," she said, from the other side of the horse, "it's the cavalry--I guess they've come after me." Major King was at the head of the detail of seven men which rode up, horses a lather of sweat. He threw himself from the saddle and hurried to Frances, his face full of the liveliest concern. Macdonald stepped around to meet him. "Thank heaven! you're not hurt," the major said. "No, but we thought we were in for another fight," she told him, offering him her hand in the gratefulness of her relief. He almost snatched it in his eagerness, and drew her toward him, and stood holding it in his haughty, proprietary way. "Mr. Macdonald--" "The scoundrels heard us coming and ran--we got a glimpse of them down there. Chadron will have to answer for this outrage!" the major said. "Major King, this is Mr. Macdonald," said she, firmly, breaking down the high manner in which the soldier persisted in overlooking and eliminating the homesteader. Major King's face flushed; he drew back a hasty step as Macdonald offered his hand, in the frank and open manner of an equal man who raised no thought nor question on that point. "Sir, I've been hearing of the gallant _rescue_ that you made of another young lady this morning," he said, with sneering emphasis. "You are hardly the kind of a man I shake hands with!" The troopers, sitting their blowing horses a rod away, made their saddles creak as they shifted to see this little dash of melodrama. Macdonald's face was swept by a sudden paleness, as if a sickness had come over him. He clenched his lean jaw hard; the firmness of his mouth was grimmer still as his hand dropped slowly to his side. Frances looked her indignation and censure into Major King's hot eyes. "Mr. Macdonald has defended me like a gallant gentleman, sir! Those ruffians didn't run because they heard you coming, but because he faced them out here in the open, single-handed and alone, and drove them to their horses, Major King!" The troopers were looking Macdonald over with favor. They had seen the evidence of his stand against Chadron's men.