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The smoker twinkled. "You're different from Ned Ferry," he said.

"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"

"Good-evening," replied the nearer man. "How far is it to camp--Austin's?"

"It's twenty miles off; why are you not with it? What are you doing here?"

I gave no assent, and I believe Oliver guessed my purpose to save him, though his eyes were as venomous as ever. I flirted the rein off his horse's neck and said, savagely "Come! quick! trot! gallop!" The sergeant's young companion of the morning before dashed out of the bushes on his horse with Jim's horse in lead. "I've got him safe, Kendall," I cried, and my captive and I sped by him at a gallop on our way to Ned Ferry's command.

We rode in silence while I tried to think what it must be to a woman of her warmth--of her impulsive energies--to be, week in, week out, month after month, besieged by that man's law-protected blandishments and stratagems. "I wish you would use me in her service every time there is a chance," I said.

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