"I don't see how I can ever look Lounsbury in the face again," he said bitterly.
Whereupon, she straightway began to comfort him.
At the shack, Oliver and Dallas had arrived at the question of future safety.
"I must insist," the captain was saying, "upon your coming to live at the Fort. I cannot spare a permanent guard for this side of the river—a scouting party up and down once a day is about the best I could do. We have our hands full already."
"Live at the Fort——" Her lips tightened a little. She got up to walk. She was thinking of the cold stares, the "Ahs," the "Ohs," and the laughter of the post ladies in their bowling ambulance; the nudges and the grins of the passing musicians; and "There's allus room at the Fort when there's good-lookin' gals in the fambly."
She shook her head.
"You love your sister," he reminded. "Think of her."
"I am thinking of her. I'd go to the Fort if there was danger. But—answer me honest—outside of what's happened here, do you think there's really any danger?"
"From Indians, you mean? Well, I'll tell you—this was a complete surprise, a shock to me. Because so far we haven't seen a sign of the hostiles beyond that signal in the spring. North of here, at Lincoln, they've shown themselves. But they're largely concentrated in the northwest, to meet the troops."
"Then, there's no danger from Indians."