“We hadn’t expected you, Mr. Scanlon,” spoke Miss Knowles, sweetly.
“No, I suppose not,” said the big man, and his tone was dry. “I just thought I’d take a stretch along the path.”
“It’s such a splendid night for that,” said Miss Knowles.
“Not too bright,” exclaimed Campe. “A fellow doesn’t make such a target as he would on a moonlit night. And yet with plenty of light to see by.”
“Moonlight has its disadvantages, of course,” admitted Mr. Scanlon. “And with matters as they now seem to be, you can’t do better than take everything into account.”
The girl and the young man went along on the path, and doggedly Scanlon followed.
“It always pays,” he continued, “not to slip anything when it comes to a calculation. Doing that has cost many a man his life—and even more. I recall one time out in the Black Hills country—but,” inquiringly, “Maybe you don’t care to hear about that just now.”
“Oh, yes, please,” said Miss Knowles.
“I was riding with Captain Marsh’s troop in chase of some Sioux who’d raided a little place called ‘Soldier Hat.’ They’d taken all the fire-water they could lug—this, like as not, being the principal object of the raid—and then headed for a camp they had among the rocks. We got word six hours later, and made good time after them.”
“In the night?” asked Miss Knowles.