Anyway, we come in, an' we'll hang up here to-day."

"Bill, who's doing this horse-stealing?"

"Damn if I know. It's a mighty pert piece of work. I've a mind it's
some slick white fellar, with Injuns backin' him."

Helen noted, when she was once more indoors, that Colonel Zane's wife
appeared worried. Her usual placid expression was gone. She put off
the playful overtures of her two bright boys with unusual
indifference, and turned to her husband with anxious questioning as to
whether the strangers brought news of Indians. Upon being assured that
such was not the case, she looked relieved, and explained to Helen
that she had seen armed men come so often to consult the colonel
regarding dangerous missions and expeditions, that the sight of a
stranger caused her unspeakable dread.

"I am accustomed to danger, yet I can never control my fears for my
husband and children," said Mrs. Zane. "The older I grow the more of a
coward I am. Oh! this border life is sad for women. Only a little
while ago my brother Samuel McColloch was shot and scalped right here
on the river bank. He was going to the spring for a bucket of water. I
lost another brother in almost the same way. Every day during the
summer a husband and a father fall victim to some murderous Indian. My
husband will go in the same way some day. The border claims them all."

"Bessie, you must not show your fears to our new friend. And, Miss
Helen, don't believe she's the coward she would make out," said the
colonel's sister smilingly.