give us some of that shortbread, and
the rest of the cake we had at tea, Private Jack). We cannot tell to
what straits we may be reduced.'

'Then,' inquired Hazel, demurely, 'you mean to stay here and fight
them?'

'To the last gasp!' said the General.

Hazel liked him better then than she had done since his first arrival.

'He really is a plucky boy after all,' she thought. 'I wonder if it will
last?'

ACT THE SECOND

WHERE IS THE ARMY?

The General's self-possession and resource were indeed remarkable.

'We ought to have a cannon,' he said; 'there's a big roll of matting
somewhere in the house. If we got that, and widened a loophole, and
shoved it through, it would look just like the muzzle of a cannon in the
dark.'

'Would that frighten a Red Indian much?' asked Hazel.

'Not if he knew what it was, perhaps; but who's going to tell him? Jack,
just run up to the house, like a good fellow, and see if you can find
it, will you? You can go with him, Guy.'

'You seem rather to like the idea of being attacked,' said Hazel, when
she and Clarence were alone together. He was gratified to notice the new
friendliness in her voice.

'Well, you see,' he explained loftily, 'I don't suppose I'm pluckier
than most people, but it just happens that I'm not afraid of Red
Indians, that's all; when I saw all those at Buffalo Bill's I wasn't
even excited: it's constitutional, I fancy.' He always modelled his talk
a good deal upon books, and a crisis like this naturally brought out his
largest language.

'I'd better see you safe back to the house, I think,' he added; 'I don't
expect them for an hour yet, but you can never depend on savages--they
might be lurking about the grounds already, for what we know.'

And, although Hazel had her own private ideas about the reality of the
danger, she was struck by his coolness and courage, for which, whether
justified or not by the occasion, she was quite fair-minded enough to
give him due credit.

Meanwhile, the other two boys, bursting with excitement, had rushed up
to the verandah, under which their mother and uncle were sitting.

'Mother! Uncle Lambert! What do you think? Our camp is going to be
attacked this very night by Indians!'

'Yes, dears,' said Mrs. Jolliffe, serenely; 'but have you had your teas
yet?'

Trifles such as these harrow the martial soul more than conflicts.

'But, mother, did you hear what we said? The fort is to be stormed by
Red Indians!'