But this was asking more than the obedient wife was willing to grant. No possible circumstances could justify her in deserting her husband. If he fell, she had no wish to escape. Dot, who had held her peace so long, now spoke: "Papa, don't ask us to leave you, 'cause we don't want to. I asked mamma to let me go to you, but she says no." Tears filled the eyes of the father, and his voice trembled as he said: "Very well, little one; stay with your mamma, and when the time comes for us to start we will go together." "But why don't you go now?" persisted the child, taking her cue, perhaps, from the words her mother had spoken. "I will not keep you waiting long," he assured her, more affected by the question of the child than by the arguments of her mother. Shifting the point of observation, the rancher raised his head just enough, cautiously parting the grass in front, to permit him to see the other bank, becoming more dimly visible in the falling snow and gathering gloom. He scanned the points whence had come the shots, but could discover nothing of his enemies. They might be there, but if so they were invisible, as could readily be the case; but, somehow or other, the conviction grew upon him that they were moving, and that to postpone his departure longer was to invite the worst fate imaginable for himself and dear ones. "We cannot leave too soon," he exclaimed, hastening to carry out the purpose that never ought to have been delayed so long. CHAPTER XIII. IN THE FRINGE OF THE WOODS. Fully realizing the mistake he had made in waiting, the rancher now did his best to improve the precious time at his disposal. His own pony had remained obediently near his companion, while the brush was going on between his master and the Sioux on the other side of the stream. The former hastily climbed into the saddle, and taking the reins in hand, looked at his wife. "Are you ready, Molly?" "I have been for a long time." "Come on; keep close to me." He spoke briskly to his horse, who broke into a swift gallop, which was imitated so promptly by the other that the couple advanced abreast toward the wooded section. It was no time for conversation, and the progress continued in silence. The snow was now falling thick and fast, and the gloom had deepened to that extent that they could not see objects more than a hundred feet away. Both wife and husband continually glanced behind them, for they were almost certain that the red men were in the act of crossing the stream at the moment the start was made, and could not be far to the rear.