"If anything is wrong," Dallas said, "Mr. Lounsbury'll come back."
"Mr. Lounsbury!" repeated Marylyn. "Was he here?"
"On this side, by the grove. I saw him start for the Fort."
And so their going was delayed.
Nevertheless, Dallas' sense of coming danger was acute; and when, before long, she heard the trumpet again, and saw the troopers fall away from the pyres, leaving the flames to their work, she lit the lantern and held it to where were stored her treasures—a lock of her mother's hair, her father's pipe, the letter she had received from Lounsbury.
"You take the cartridge-belt," she called to Marylyn.
The other obeyed.
"Ready?" said Dallas, and lifted the lantern to shake it.
She got no reply. Instead, gasping in alarm, Marylyn came headlong to her, pinioning her arms with wildly clinging ones. "Dallas! oh, help——"
Outside there was a sound of rapid running. Dallas flung herself against the door, driving it shut. A second, and a weight was hurled against the outer battens. Then came four raps.