Sitting Bull is the arch-devil for a
plot, and he has found able assistants to lead the fighting. I only
wish it were my luck to be in it. But come, little girl, as I said, I
'm quite likely to be off before night, provided I am fortunate enough
to strike a fresh trail. Under such conditions you won't mind my
kissing you out here, will you?"

She held up her lips and he touched them softly with his own. Her eyes
were tear-dimmed. "Oh, Bob, I hate so to let you go," she sobbed,
clinging to him. "No one could have been more to me than you have
been, and you are all I have left in the world. Everything I care for
goes away from me. Life is so hard, so hard!"

"Yes, little girl, I know," and the man stroked her hair tenderly, his
own voice faltering. "It's all hard; I learned that sad lesson long
ago, but I 've tried to make it a little bit easier for you since we
first came together. Still, I don't see how I can possibly help this.
I 've been hunting after that fellow a long while now, a matter of
fifteen years over a mighty dim trail, and it would be a mortal sin to
permit him to get away scot-free. Besides, if this affair only manages
to turn out right, I can promise to make you the happiest girl in
America. But, Naida, dear, don't cling to me so; it is not at all like
you to break down in this fashion," and he gently unclasped her hands,
holding her away from him, while he continued to gaze hungrily into her
troubled face. "It only weakens me at a time when I require all my
strength of will."

"Sometimes I feel just like a coward, Bob. It's the woman of it; yet
truly I wish to do whatever you believe to be best. But, Bob, I need
you so much, and you will come back, won't you? I shall be so lonely
here, for--for you are truly all I have in the world."

With one quick, impulsive motion he pressed her to him, passionately
kissing the tears from her lowered lashes, unable longer to conceal the
tremor that shook his own voice. "Never, never doubt it, lassie. It
will not take me long, and if I live I come straight back."

He watched her slender, white-robed figure as it passed slowly down the
deserted street. Once only she paused, and waved back to him, and he
returned instant response, although scarcely realizing the act.

"Poor little lonely girl! perhaps I ought to have told her the whole
infernal story, but I simply haven't got the nerve, the way it reads
now. If I can only get it straightened o