"I beg your pardon!" gasped the girl. "My education along those lines must have been somewhat neglected. I had an idea that those were Indians camped down at your place. But French half-breeds,—a mixture of white and French,—that's a different matter!" She stopped her horse and laughed with the immoderation of a boy. "That is rich," she cried. "If ever I go to New York again I shall spring that on the Prince. 'Mon Dieu!' he will exclaim. 'What then are we, Mademoiselle, we, the aristocracy—the great nation of the French?'" Her face sobered. "But this is not the question. I do know how this will end, and I am not a fortune-teller, either. I know that the ones who are in the wrong about this matter will get the worst of it. Sometimes it means states prison, sometimes death—at all events, something not expected. I tell you, boys, I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of this for anything! And do you know, I am real glad that your father doesn't need your help. We will take a little side of our own and watch things—what do you say? It will be lots of fun, and we'll know all the time that we are in the right, and maybe we can prevent them from doing any real wrong to themselves." She watched them closely to see how they accepted the suggestion. Her inspiration might be considered a reckless one, but their young minds lent themselves readily to her influence.
"The old man licked me this mornin'," growled Dave. "An' he can go straight to the hot place now, for all o' me! I'm goin' off on the round-up, anyway, next year."
"You boys know, don't you, that if your father ever found out that I knew anything about this thing, he would probably give me a licking, too—and send me out of the country?" This for effect.
"I'd like to see him lay hands on you," roared Dave. "I'd fill him so full of lead that—that——"
Words failed him.
"I'd kill him if he did, Miss Hathaway," exclaimed the small boy, Ned, with quiet assurance that brought a hint of laughter to the girl's face. The soft-voiced twin rode up very close to her.
"He ain't goin' to find it out, an' don't you worry; we'll all stand by you while there's one of us left!"
"All right, boys, we're comrades now. I'll tell you what we'll do; we'll form a band—brigade—all by ourselves. I am commanding officer and you are my faithful scouts. How's that?" Hope's fancy was leading her away. "Come on," she cried, "let's race this flat!"
The self-appointed commanding officer reached the smooth valley far in advance of her faithful scouts, who yelled in true Indian fashion as they rode up with her.
"I'll run you a mile an' beat you all hollow," declared Dave. "But on a two hundred yard stretch like this here place my horse don't have no chance to get started."