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"Borrowed!" echoed the sergeant. "If he doesn't own that mare no man does."

I prompted Camille to ask if he had ever encountered Ned Ferry, and he laughed.

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

"Who don't belong to Ferry's scouts at all," I still more sweetly added.

"Why, who and what should I be?"

I flushed with indignation, and my eye retorted to his that I had only followed his example. His answer was a smile. "You, also, have been guessing, eh?" he said, and when I glowed with gratitude he added,

"Even things she doesn't want told?"

"Ah, he is, I doubt not, but the burnt-out ruin of what he was half a year ago. You perceive, he has not succeeded; he has not devoured her; actually she has turned his fangs upon himself and has defeated his designs toward her as if by magic. And yet the only magic has been her vigilance, her courage, her sagacity. Smith,"--again he stroked the mane of his charger--"if I tell you--"

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