At that, she assented, fearful of hurting his feelings. But she could think of nothing to say, and pulled thoughtfully at the grass.
He studied the farther bluff-top and its warding gun.
"Peace," he repeated after a time. "It's a thing we're not likely to have this summer. And you folks must let us watch out for you, no matter how much you dislike us. The Indians are out and getting ready. They say there isn't a young brave left on any of the reservations up this way. They're all hunting—and we know what that means. They're collecting and arming for battle. Our troops go to find them at daybreak. See!" He bent forward, pointing.
Below the stockade, on a level stretch showing yellow with mustard, where grain had been unshipped the year before, stood long, grey-tented rows.
"They've moved out of barracks and gone into temporary camp."
"That land man back there's moved and gone, too." She waited. Then, "Are—are you going?"
He shook his head. "I'm scheduled to stay. It was a disappointment; but I expected it. I've an idea B Troop won't be idle though."
Her brow knit. "Indians?" she asked.
"Your being on this side of the river assures you folks safety," he hastened to say. "And they shan't get to you while B Troop's in post."
"All the same, I wish pa'd let Dallas take us away."