Silence. A little shifting of feet, a growl from Chadron, and a curse. "But as for your proposal involving Miss Chadron, I am honored by it," said King. "Any man would be!" Chadron declared. "And we will just let it stand, waiting the lady's sanction." That brightened Chadron up. He moved about, and there was a sound as if he had slapped the young officer on the back in pure comradeship and open admiration. "What's your scheme for drawin' that feller into firin' on your men?" he asked. "We'll talk it over as we go," said King. A bugle lifted its sharp, electrifying note in the barracks. "Boots and saddles!" Chadron said. "Yes; we march at nine o'clock." CHAPTER XVIII THE TRAIL OF THE COFFEE "You done right to come to the mission after me, for I'd ride to the gatepost of hell to turn a trick agin Saul Chadron!" Banjo's voice had a quaver of earnestness in it that needed no daylight to enforce. The pitchy night made a bobbing blur of him as he rode his quick-stepping little horse at Frances Landcraft's side. "Yes, you owe him one," Frances admitted. "And I'll pay him before mornin' or it won't be no fault of mine. That there little ten-cent-size major he'd 'a' stopped you if he'd 'a' known you was goin', don't you suppose?" "I'm sure he would have, Mr. Gibson." "Which?" said Banjo. "Banjo," she corrected. "Now, that sounds more comfortabler," he told her. "I didn't know for a minute who you meant, that name's gittin' to be a stranger to me." "Well, we don't want a stranger along tonight," said she, seriously. "You're right, we don't. That there horse you're ridin' he's a good one, as good as any in the cavalry, even if he ain't as tall. He was an outlaw till Missus Mathews tamed him down." "How did she do it--not break him like a bronco-buster?" "No, she done it like she tames Injuns and other folks, by gentle words and gentler hands. Some they'll tell you she's sunk down to the ways of Injuns, clean out of a white man's sight in the dirt and doin's of them dead-horse eatin' 'Rapahoes. But I know she ain't. She lets herself down on a level to reach 'em, and git her hands under 'em so she can lift 'em up, the same as she puts herself on my level when she wants to reach me, or your level, or anybody's level, mom." "Her eyes and her soft ways tell you that, Banjo, as plain as any words." "She's done ten times as much as that big-backed buffalo of a preacher she's married to ever done for his own people, or ever will. He's clim above 'em with his educated ways; the Injun's ironed out of that man. You can't reach down and help anybody up, mom, if you go along through this here world on stilts." "Not very well, Banjo." "You need both of your hands to hold your stilts, mom; you ain't got even a finger to spare for a low-down feller like me." "You're not a low-down fellow, Banjo. Don't be calling yourself names."