heap," he said, and paused. Then a faint flush slowly
spread over his thin, drawn face. "Nothin' could 'a' happened along now
wuss than Rosie's gettin' around," he went on with intense feeling.
"Can't you see, Rube?" He reached out and laid an emphatic hand on his
companion's arm. "Can't you see what's goin' to come? Ther's trouble
comin' sure. Trouble for us all. Trouble for that gal. The news is around
the Reservation now. It'll reach Black Fox 'fore to-morrow mornin', an'
then----Pshaw! Rube, I love that gal. She's more to me than even you an'
Ma; she's more to me than life. I can't never marry her, seein' how things
are, but that don't cut no figger. But I'm goin' to see after her whatever
happens. Ther' ain't no help comin'. Them few soldier-fellers don't amount
to a heap o' beans. The Injuns 'll chaw 'em up if they notion it. An' I'm
like a dead man, Rube--jest a hulk. God, Rube, if harm comes to that pore
gal----Pshaw!"

Seth's outburst was so unusual that Rube stared in silent amazement. It
seemed as if his bodily weakness had utterly broken down the stern
self-repression usually his. It was as though with the weakening of muscle
had come a collapse of his wonderful self-reliance, and against his will
he was driven to seek support.

Rube removed his pipe from his mouth. His slow moving brain was hard at
work. His sympathy was not easy for him to express.

"Guess it ain't easy, Seth, boy," he said judicially, at last. "Them
things never come easy if a man's a man. I've felt the same in the old
days, 'fore Ma an' me got hitched. Y' see the Injuns wus wuss them
days--a sight. Guess I jest sat tight."

Though so gently spoken, the old man's words had instant effect. Already
Seth was ashamed of his weakness. He knew, no one better, the strenuous
life of single-hearted courage this old man had lived.

"I'm kind o' sorry I spoke, Rube. But I ain't jest thinkin' o' myself."

"I know, boy. You're jest worritin' 'cause you're sick. I know you. You
an' me are goin' to set tight. Your eye 'll be on the gal; guess I'll
figger on Ma. These sort o' troubles jest come and go. I've seen 'em
before. So've you. It's the gal that makes the diff'rence fer you. Say,
lad," Rube laid a kindly hand on the sick man's drooping shoulders, and
his manner became lighter, and there was a twinkle in his deep-set eyes,
"when I'd located that I wanted Ma fer wife I jest up an' sez so. I 'lows
the job wa'n't easy. I'd a heap sooner 'a' let