scouting the Santa Maria and the Christobal and is due along
here at this very moment."

And now Miss Harvey had the field to herself, for the younger sister
drew back into the dark depths of the covered wagon and spoke no more.
In ten minutes the team was rattling down the eastward slope, and
Sergeant Wing turned with a sigh, as at last even the sound of hoof
and wheel had died away. Slowly he climbed the steep and crooked trail
to their aerie at the peak. No sign of Jackson yet, no message from
the ranch, no signal-fires at Moreno's or beyond. Yet, was he right in
telling Harvey with such precious freight to push on across that open
plain when there was even rumor of Apache in the air? The loveliness
of those two dark, radiant faces, the pretty white teeth flashing in
the lantern light, the soft, silvery, girlish voices, the kindly,
cordial hand-clasp vouchsafed him by the elder, as they rolled
away,--these were things to stir the heart of any man long exiled in
this desert land. It had been his custom to spend an hour in chat with
his comrades before turning in for the night; but with Jackson still
away and Pike still plunged in gloom, with, moreover, new and stirring
emotions to investigate and analyze, Wing strolled off by himself,
passed around the rocky buttress at the point and came to the broad
ledge overlooking the eastward way to the distant range. Here a mass
of tinder, dry baked by weeks' exposure to the burning sunshine, stood
in a pyramid of firewood ready to burst in flame at first touch of the
torch. Close at hand were the stacks of reserve fuel. "Never light
this until you know the Indians are raiding west of the Christobal,"
were his orders. But well he knew that once ignited it could be seen
for many a league. Here again he filled his faithful pipe and, moving
safe distance away, lighted its charge and tossed the match-stump
among the jagged rocks below. He saw the spark go sailing downward,
unwafted from its course by faintest breath of air. Then he heard
Pike's growl or something like it, and called to him to ask if he
heard Jackson. No answer. Sure that he had heard the gruff, though
inarticulate, voice of his comrade, he hailed again more loudly than
before, and still there came no reply. Surprised, he stepped quickly
back around the rocky point to where the tents lay under the
sheltering cliff, and came face to face with three dark, shadowy
forms, whose moccasined footsteps gave no sound, whose