"I was not so terribly afraid last night; I hardly had time to realize
what was being done, did you?"

"Well, yes; it was risky business. Awfully treacherous bottom and I
was trusting to good luck."

The Sergeant ate heartily, speaking occasionally so as to divert her
mind, but for the most part, busily thinking and endeavoring to decide
his next move. He sat facing the river, continually lifting his head
to scan the opposite shore. There was probably a scouting detail
somewhere near at hand, either approaching from the east, alarmed by
the report of the fleeing stage crew, or else a detachment tracking
Roman Nose's warriors across those plains extending into the north.
The latter contingency was the more probable, judging from the Indians'
flight, and his own knowledge of the small reserve force left at Dodge.
Besides, ride as they might those two fleeing cowards of yesterday
could hardly have yet reached that shelter of safety and might not
confess the truth of their desertion even when they did arrive. A
pursuing force was the only real hope for escaping the necessity of a
hard tramp back over the trail. Well, the girl looked fit, and he
glanced toward her appreciatively.

In spite of the sad experiences of the past night she was a pleasant
spectacle, her eyes bright with excitement, her cheeks flushed under
the morning sun which flecked her dark, disordered hair with odd color.
Hers was a winsome face, with smiling lips, and frank good nature in
its contour. He was surprised to note how fresh and well she looked.

"Are you tired?"