y rifle in case of emergencies."

"You are stronger than I thought," he said thankfully,
looking at her for the first time with unmistakable
admiration.

The rancher entered the room. He had always been noted
for his coolness in time of danger. He looked quickly at
his daughter, and was wonderfully relieved to see her
take the situation so quietly. He kissed her, and said--

"Now, my dear, you'd better get into the other room till
this affair is over. There's no need to be alarmed."

How he wished he could have believed what he said!'

"I'm not frightened, dad, a little bit, and I'm going to
stay right with" you and load the guns."

"Lower the lamp," cried Pasmore, suddenly.

In another minute each man was glancing along the barrel
of his rifle out into the clear moonlight. They faced
the entrance to the valley up which came the enemy. It
was a dimly-defined half-circle, with a deep-blue,
star-studded background. A fringe of trees ran up it,
bordering the frozen creek alongside the trail. Stealthily
stealing up, they could see a number of dark figures.
Every now and again, from the heights above on either
hand, they could see a little jet of fire spurt, and hear
the crack of a Winchester as the Mounted Police on the
look-out tried to pick off members of the attacking body
from their inaccessible point of vantage. But the
half-breeds and Indians contented themselves with firing
an odd shot in order to warn them off. They would deal
with them later. In the meantime they came nearer.

"Ah, St. Croix, old friend! It is my neck you will want
to wring, is it? Eh, bien!" And Jacques chuckled audibly.

"Now, hold hard, and wait until I give you the word,"
said Pasmore, quietly.

The rebels, of whom there might be some thirty or forty,
now came out into the open and approached the house until
they were abreast of the out-buildings. In the clear
moonlight they could be seen distinctly, clad in their
great buffalo coats, with collars up over their ears,
and bearskin and beaver-caps pulled well down.

At a signal from their leader they raised their rifles
to send a preparatory volley through the windows.

"_Now then!_" thundered Pasmore.

Four rifles cracked like one, and three rebels dropped
where they stood, while a fourth, clapping his hands to
the lower part of his body, spun round and round, stamping
his feet, reviling the comrades who had brought him there,
and blaspheming wildly, while the blood spurted