to before one who had been schooled
to hold a soldier's honor his most precious endowment.

Major King had shown a hand of half-fairness in treating both sides
alike. That much was to his credit, at the worst. But he had not done
it because he was a high-souled and honorable man. His eyes betrayed
him in that, no matter how stern he tried to make them. The coming of
that fair outrider in the night had turned aside a great tragedy, and
saved Major King partly to himself, at least, and perhaps wholly to
his career.

Macdonald tried to tell her in one long and earnest look all this. She
nodded, seeming to understand.

"You've double-crossed me, King," Chadron accused, in the flat voice
of a man throwing down his hand. "I brought you up here to throw these
nesters off of our land."

"The civil courts must decide the ownership of that," returned King,
sourly. "Disarm that man!" He indicated Macdonald, and turned his
horse as if to ride back and join his command.

The lieutenant appeared to feel that it would be no lowering of his
dignity to touch the weapons of a man such as Macdonald's bearing that
morning had shown him to be. He approached with a smile half
apologetic. Chadron was sitting by on his horse watching the
proceeding keenly.

"Pardon me," said the officer, reaching out to receive Macdonald's
guns.

A swift change swept over Macdonald's face, a flush dyeing it to his
ears. He sat motionless a little while, as if debating the question,
the young officer's hand still outstretched. Macdonald dropped his
hand, quickly, as if moved to shorten the humiliation, to the buckle
of his belt, and opened it with deft jerk. At that moment Chadron, ten
feet away, slung a revolver from his side and fired.

Macdonald rocked in his saddle as Frances leaped to the ground and ran
to his side. He wilted forward, his hat falling, and crumpled into her
arms. The lieutenant relieved her of her bloody burden, and eased
Macdonald to the ground.

Major King came riding back. At his sharp command troopers surrounded
Chadron, who sat with his weapon still poised, like one gazing at the
mark at which he had fired, the smoke of his shot around him.

"In a second he'd 'a' got me! but I beat him to it, by God! I beat him
to it!" he said.

Macdonald's belt had slipped free of his body. With its burden of
cartridges and its two long pistols it lay at Frances' feet. She
stooped, a little sound in her throat between a sob and a cry, j