ed, and passed little Marjorie out into her
father's arms. Then she sprang lightly to the ground.

Then the teamster drove the horses away into the brush, and the wagon was
hidden from view. The scout and the batman pitched two "A" tents, and the
mother noticed that they were so placed as to be utterly hidden in the
thick foliage. The horses were off-saddled, and, contrary to custom, were
tethered further still from the road, down by the water.

Little Marjorie went off with the men who were securing the horses, and
Alice stood watching her husband's movements. She was a beautiful woman of
that strong, dark Celtic type, so common in Ireland. Her strong supple
figure was displayed to perfection in a simple tweed suit with a jacket of
the Norfolk pattern. She stood for some moments watching with deep
contemplative eyes. Then she abruptly turned away.

"I will gather some fire-wood," she said deliberately to her husband.

He looked up from his work and their eyes met.

"Don't bother," he said; "we will use the oil stove."

And without further explanation the camp was arranged. There was no bustle
or excitement. Yet each member of that little party, with the exception of
the child, knew that the camp had been made in emergency--grave
emergency.

A hearty meal was partaken of. Then the man and the scout disappeared. The
others occupied themselves around the camp. The afternoon wore on. At tea
the scout and his companion reappeared. The wife still asked no verbal
questions. Her eyes told her all she wished to know.

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