an they told me about, eh? Pretty good to
them."

"Yes. From what I understand, they're pretty good to him."

They followed leisurely, and took up a stand in the cottonwoods above
the landing to discuss the situation. At the very outset, Lounsbury
determined not to speak of the plan that included Mrs. Martin's aid, the
rebuff he had suffered from the section-boss having decided him against
it.

"By George!" he said regretfully, "I wish when I had Matthews covered
that I'd just marched him up the coulee and on to Clark's."

"Good idea; too bad you didn't."

"But I'll tell you this: I'm not going to stay out here all night just
to shoo him off. I've a good mind to happen in down there, sort him out,
and do the marching act anyhow."

"Now, look here," reminded Fraser; "that wouldn't do. You don't want to
kill Matthews, and you don't want to be killed. It'd be one or the other
if you poked your nose in there."

"What _do_ you advise?"

"Lie low till you see a good opportunity. I think the chap'll come out."

"But suppose he doesn't?"

"You'll have to stay here, that's all. I'll divide the watch with you."

"Oh, I don't like to ask you to do that, old man. We ought to be able to
think up some kind of a scheme."

The sun was fast declining. Soon it disappeared behind the river-bluffs,
when the boom of the evening-gun swelled the last note of "retreat."

Fraser sighed. The trumpet had suggested a certain dire possibility.

"I don't care for the cold," he declared, "but--but"--ruefully--"do you
suppose the K. O.'ll give me more than a month in quarters for this?
There's that dance at the Major's next week; I'd like awfully to go. If
I'm under arrest, I can't. And who'll feed my horse and my
rattlesnakes!"

"Some sassy sergeant'll shoot your fiend of a nag," said the
storekeeper, "and the rattlers'll be requested to devour one another.
When that's over, I'll break it gently to you (and you must be mum) that
the K. O. is disciplining you simply to keep his face. He
knows--suggested it himself--that I'm to be helped out by some of you
fellows."

"Well, that's better!" returned Fraser, relieved. And while they walked
back and forth, he launched into a defence of his pets.

"'Fiend of a nag,'" he quoted. "Why, Buckskin's a tactician; knows what
the trumpet says better than I do."

Night settled swiftly. Despite Lounsbury's prophecy, the temperature was
not unbearable. The wind died with the glow in the west, l