During the evening meal little Marjorie made a discovery. "Mamma," she exclaimed, "you've got a belt on like daddy's. What are these?" And she fingered a revolver holster, of which her mother's belt supported two. It was the rough, long-haired scout who saved the woman a deliberate falsehood. "Guess them's playthings," he said, with a sombre laugh. "B't don't figger they're fer kiddies to monkey with." After supper the man and the scout again disappeared. Three hours later the moon was high in the starlit sky. It was a glorious summer moon, and the whole country was bright with its silvery light. Two men were lying upon their stomachs conning the northwestern sky-line. The scout at last spoke in his slow drawling way. "Guess it's played out, Colonel," he said. "We're up agin it." It didn't seem clear to what he referred, but the other understood him. "Yes, they're working this way," he replied. "See, something has been fired away to the right front. They may be working round that way and will miss us here. What are our chances?" "Nix," responded the scout decidedly. "Them critturs hev got to git around this way. They're on a line that'll strike Fort Randall, wi' a heap more military 'n they'll notion. They'll strike south an' sweep round sheer through to Wyoming. We're dead in their line." "Then we'd best get back and prepare. Mrs. Raynor and Marjorie will have turned in; we can do it quietly." "Yup." They rose and returned to camp. Colonel Raynor had intended to avoid his wife's tent. But Alice was waiting for him on the outskirts of the camp. The scout saw her and discreetly passed on, and husband and wife were left together. "Well?" The woman's tone was quite steady. She was used to a soldier's life. Besides, she understood the man's responsibility and wished to help him. And Landor Raynor, looking into the gray eyes that were to him the gates of the heart of purest womanhood, could not resort to subterfuge. "They will be on us before morning, dearest," he said, and it was only by the greatest effort he could check a tide of self-accusation. But the woman understood and quickly interposed. "I feared so, Landor. Are you ready? I mean for the fight?" "We are preparing. I thought of sending you and little Marjorie south with Jim, on saddle horses, but----" "No. I would not go. I am what you men call 'useful with a gun.'" She laughed shortly. There was a silence between them for some moments. And in that silence a faint and distant sound came to them. It was like the sound of droning machinery, only very faint. The wife broke the silence. "Landor, we are old campaigners, you and I." "Yes, Al." The woman sighed ever so lightly. "The excitement of the foreknowledge of victory is not in me to-night. Everything seems--so ordinary." "Yes." "When the moment comes, Landor, I should not like to be taken prisoner." "Nor shall you be, Al. There are four good fighting men with you. All old campaigners like--you."