"Then, go to Bismarck," urged David Bond, finally. "Stay there until the autumn."
"Live on what?" she asked.
From a hind pocket he slowly brought forth a narrow buckskin pouch, tied with a thong. He opened it, and emptied a handful of coins upon a palm. "This is only a little," he said apologetically. "But it will help. And—you must think first of your safety."
"I can't take it," she said, her voice all gentleness. "Even if I did—what about next winter? I must stay and raise things. Don't you see?"
"At Bismarck you would have a double market, Dallas. There is Fort Lincoln, and the town."
"I'd—I'd have to plow new ground," she went on. "And—we'd have to build again, and dig another well——"
"There are men in Bismarck who——"
Suddenly she lowered her voice and stepped nearer. "That's just the reason dad wouldn't go there," she said. "We'd be close to town. We'd have to meet folks. Here, he keeps away from the Fort, and you, and Mr. Lounsbury—everyone but Charley."
"Oh—oh—oh," breathed the evangelist, helplessly.
"Now, you know. It's no use. I don't complain. But, he's fastened to the Bend with a diamond hitch!"