old man was saddling a big raw-boned mare with
almost feverish haste. "She's no right goin' that aways. An' I promised
Seth, too. I didn't know but what she wus in the kitchen. Here, fix that
bridle while I get into the house. Ha' y' got your gun?"
"Yes; but why?"
"Wal--y' never can figger to these durned Injuns when they're raisin'
trouble."
The old man was off like a shot, while Charlie fixed the great mare's
bridle. He returned almost immediately armed with a brace of guns.
"Say, ken y' spare an hour or so?"
As Charlie looked into the old farmer's face when he made his reply he
read the answer to all he would have liked to ask him. Rube was consumed
with an anxiety that no words, delivered in his slow fashion, could have
conveyed to any one but Seth.
"Certainly, as long as you like."
"Good boy," said Rube, with an air of relief. "I wouldn't ask you, but
it's fer her." And the two men rode off hastily, with Rube leading.
"By-the-way," said Charlie, drawing his horse up alongside the dun-colored
mare, "Joe Smith, north of us, says some neighbor of his told him there
were tents on the plains further north. I was wondering. The troops
haven't been sent for, have they?"
"Can't say," said Rube, without much interest. Then he asked hastily,
"Which way was she headin'?"
The question showed the trend of his whole thought.
"Why, straight down."
"Ah, Nevil Steyne's shack."
"He lives that way, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
The two men rode on in silence. This was the first time Charlie had ever
seen Rube disturbed out of his deliberate manner. He made a mental resolve
to bring his wife and children into White River Farm at the first sign of
actual danger.
CHAPTER XVI
GENERAL DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
Never since her first coming to the farm had Rosebud been forced to keep
her goings and comings secret. But Wanaha had made it imperative now. It
went sorely against the girl's inclination, for she hated deception of any
kind; and she knew that what she meditated was a deception against those
she loved. Consequently she was angry; angry with Wanaha, angry with the
Indians, but most of all with herself. Wanaha had asked for a secret visit
to Nevil Steyne, who was cutting wood below the bridge.
But in spite of her anger, as she made the necessary detour for
concealment in one of those deep troughs amid the billows of grass-land,
there was a sparkle of anticipation and excitement in her violet eye
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