one man to another in a pass where words alone would be weak and
lame.

"I was looking for Chadron to come with help and attempt a rescue, and
I was moving to forestall him, but we were late getting under way.
They"--waving his hand toward the prisoners--"held out until an hour
ago."

"You must think, and think fast!" she said. "They're almost here!"

"Yes. I'm going ahead to meet them, and offer to turn these prisoners
over to Major King. They'll have no excuse for firing on us then."

"No, no! some other way--think of some other way!"

He looked gravely into her anxious, pleading eyes. "Why, no matter,
Frances. If they've come here to do that, they'll do it, but this way
they'll have to do it in the open, not by a trick."

"I'll go with you," she said.

"I think perhaps--"

"I'll go!"

Macdonald turned to Lassiter in a few hurried words. She pressed to
his side as the two rode away alone to meet the troops, repeating as
if she had been denied:

"I'll go!"

There was a dash of hoofs behind them, and a man who rode like a sack
of bran came bouncing up, excitement over his large face.

"What's up, Macdonald--where're you off to?" he inquired.

Macdonald told him in a word, riding forward as he spoke. He
introduced the stranger as a newspaper correspondent from Chicago, who
had arrived at the homesteaders' camp the evening past.

"So they got troops, did they?" the newspaper man said, riding forward
keenly. "Yes, they told me down in Cheyenne they'd put that trick
through. Here they come!"

Macdonald spurred ahead, holding up his right hand in the Indian sign
of peace. Major King was riding with Chadron at the head of the
vanguard. They drew rein suddenly at sight of what appeared to be such
a formidable force at Macdonald's back, for at that distance, and with
the dimness of the scattering mist, it appeared as if several hundred
horsemen were approaching.

Distrustful of Chadron, fearing that he might induce Major King to
shoot Macdonald down as he sat there making overtures of peace,
Frances rode forward and joined him, the correspondent coming jolting
after her in his horn-riding way. After a brief parley among
themselves Chadron and King, together with three or four officers,
rode forward. One remained behind, and halted the column as it came
around the brushwood screen at the turn of the road.

Major King greeted Frances as he rode up, scowling in high dignity.
Chadron could not cover his surp