"It would be all right if only they could have sent word to the headquarters of the troops, I s'pose," the girl said thoughtfully. "Just fancy the Indians cutting the telegraph wires and destroying the railway." "Yup. Guess they've had all winter to get things settled," Seth responded indifferently, while he turned a keen ear to windward. "What are you listening for?" asked Rosebud, quickly. "General's out scoutin'." "Good old General!" "Yes, he'll locate the Injuns when they git around." But just then Rosebud was thinking of other things. "Why can't you find some one who will try to get through to the troops? I mean the headquarters?" Seth shook his head. "Can't spare a single man," he said conclusively. "I 'lows no white folk 'ud get through anyways. An' we ain't got an Injun, an' if we had I wouldn't trust him no more'n I'd trust a 'rattler.' No, Rosie, gal, we've got to fight this out on our own. An' make no sort o' mistake we're goin' to fight good an' hard. I've figgered to hold this place fer two weeks an' more. That's how I've figgered." It was the final repetition which filled Rosebud with misgivings. She realized the man's doubt. Suddenly she slipped a hand through his arm, and it gently closed over one of his. Her soft eyes were raised to his face as she put another question in a low tone. "And if we go under, Seth?" The man moved uneasily, but the little hand retained its hold of his. "What then?" Seth cleared his throat, but remained silent. "What then?" the girl persisted. "Don't ask me." "I've thought once or twice of my poor father and mother," Rosebud said presently. "I was wondering what happened to them at--at the end." Seth eyed the girl for a second. His face was troubled. "I've a notion he was killed by the Injuns," he said. "And mother?" "Can't jest say. I don't fancy, though, he let the brutes worrit her any." There was another pause. With an involuntary movement Rosebud's hand tightened trustfully upon his. "I think father was right--to do that," she said simply. The man nodded. The next moment he was kneeling, his body bending forward, and his eyes straining in the direction of the horizon. "What is it?" the girl asked. "Ther's something movin'." But Rosebud could hear nothing. Still she was content to accept his assurance. "It's wheels," he said after a few moments. "Is it Joe Smith's outfit?" "Yup." They both listened. The girl could now hear the faintest possible rattle of wheels. Suddenly she turned upon him. Her breath was coming quickly. She was smiling, and her eyes were soft under cover of the dim starlight. "Seth, I want you to let me do something. In the old days you used to be my dear old 'daddy.' You used to scold me when I did wrong. You used to get angry with me, and I used to get more angry with you. Since I've grown up, of course, things have changed, haven't they?" "Yes." The man looked into her face wonderingly.