, boastingly. "It would be real nice and
jolly without her. And what could a little girl do 'way out on the
prairies, and no mother to take care of her, while we were shooting
Indians?"

He sprang up and took aim at the fort with an imaginary bow and arrow.
But there was a hollow note in his voice as if it covered a sob.

"She can shoot Indians as good as you can, Beverly Clarenden, and,
besides, there isn't anybody to mother her here but Jondo, and I reckon
he'll go with us, won't he?" I urged.

Mothering was not in my stock of memories. The heart-hunger of the
orphan child had been eased by the gentleness of Jondo, the championship
of Mat Nivers, and the sure defense of Esmond Clarenden, who said little
to children, and was instinctively trusted by all of them.

With Beverly's banter the smile came back quickly to Mat's eyes. It was
never lost from them long at a time.

"Beverly Clarenden, you keep _your_ little mouth shut and _your_ big
ears open," she began, laughingly. "I know the whole sheboodle better 'n
any of you, and I'm not teasing and whimpering both at the same time,
neither. Bev doesn't know anything except what I've told him, and I
wasn't through when you got here, Gail. There is going to be a big war
in Texas, and our soldiers are going to go, and to win, too. Just look
up at that flag there, and remember now, boys, that wherever the Stars
and Stripes go they _stay_."

"Who told you all that?" Beverly inquired.

"The stars up in the sky told me that last night," Mat replied, pulling
down the corners of her mouth solemnly. "But Uncle Esmond hasn't
anything to do with the war, nor soldiers, only like he has been doing
here," the girl went on. "He's a store-man, a merchant, and I guess he's
just about as good as a general--a colonel, anyhow. But he's too short
to fight, and too fat to run."

"He isn't any coward," Beverly objected.

"Who said he was?" Mat inquired. "He's one of them usefulest men that
keeps things going everywhere."

"I saw a real Mexican come up out of the ravine awhile ago and go
straight over toward Uncle Esmond's store. What do you suppose he came
here for? Is he a soldier from down there?" I asked.

"Oh, just one Mexican don't mean anything anywhere, but the war in
Mexico has something to do with our going to Santa Fe, even if Uncle
Esmond is just a nice little store-man. That's all a girl knows about
things," Beverly insisted.

Mat opened her big eyes wide and looked st