eld her belongings. On
the robe once more, she took out and held up to the light of the fire
two books and a strip of beaded cloth.

The elder left the window and stood beside her.

"These are what he gave me," went on Marylyn, putting forward the books.
"And this"--she showed the beadwork--"he asked me to make for him. But
to-day," mournfully, "he didn't even speak of it."

Dallas leaned down and touched her lips to the other's hair. "Baby
sister, what did you expect him to do? Hold up a man with one hand
and--and reach out for a present with the other?"

Marylyn put away the box. "Anyway, he don't like me."

"Like you? Why, he couldn't help it. There isn't a sweeter, prettier
girl on the prairies than my little house-keeper."

"He called me the prairie princess," declared Marylyn, but with
lingering doubt.

"Now, that shows," said the elder girl. "Don't you worry another second.
When he comes again, you'll see."

So Dallas soothed and comforted her until she fell asleep, when she
lifted her to her father's bed and covered her carefully. Then she drew
aside a swinging blanket to let the firelight shine through--and saw
that there were still tears on her sister's face.

CHAPTER XIII

A PROPOSAL AND A PROMISE

The medicine lodge of the Indians stood just within the sliding-panel of
the stockade. Thirty poles, their tops lashed together so as to leave a
smoke-hole, their bases spread to form a generous circle, supported a
covering of tanned buffalo hides seamed with buckskin thongs. Here,
barely an hour after Matthews' arrival at Fort Brannon, Squaw Charley
entered hastily and thrust some red coals under a stick-pile at the
centre of the lodge. And at once, by the flickering light of his fire,
the warriors of the band entered the low entrance and seated themselves
in a semicircle.

When Colonel Cummings learned that an interpreter had been found, he
promptly ordered the completion of preparations for the Jamieson
expedition, and the calling of a council, unsatisfactory, but necessary.
The redskins jailed in the stockade must know both the object of the
trip and his terms, so that they, realising their peril, would reveal
the whereabouts of the winter camp of the hostiles.

His interview with Matthews threatened a change in his plans. The
latter, having listened to the story of the captured women and to the
scheme for their rescue, astonished the commanding officer by declining
absolutely to take t