"I can't, Dick dear. I might be braver under other circumstances, but now the thought of your leaving me is more than I can bear."
"I won't go so far but that I can see the wagon," Dick said, kissing his mother and little Margie much as though bidding them good-by; and a few moments later the report of his rifle almost startled the occupants of the wagon.
During the next hour Dick discharged his weapon at least twelve times, but there was no reply of whatsoever nature.
If his father was alive and within hearing, he was too badly disabled to give token of his whereabouts.
The supply of cartridges was not so large that very many could be used without making a serious inroad upon the store; and realizing the uselessness of further efforts in this direction, Dick went back to the wagon.
Margie had fallen asleep, her head pillowed in her mother's lap; and Mrs. Stevens, unwilling to disturb the child, was taking such rest as was possible while she leaned against the canvas covering of the wagon.
Dick seated himself beside her. It was not necessary he should speak of his failure, for she knew that already.
He had thought it his duty to join her for a few moments, and then go outside again to act the part of sentinel, although such labor could be of little avail; but before he had been nestling by her side five minutes his eyes were closed in slumber; and the mother, her mind reaching out to the absent father, spent the hours of the night in wakefulness, watching over her children.
The sun had risen before Dick's eyes were opened; and springing to his feet quickly, ashamed of having slept while his mother kept guard, he said,—
"I didn't mean to hang on here like a baby while you were awake, mother, but my eyes shut before I knew it."