"Why, papa," broke in his commanding officer, "you are not going to turn scout or runner, are you, and leave me behind? I won't stay!"
"You will obey orders, as a soldier should," answered her father. "If I go instead of sending, it will be because it is necessary, and you will have to bow to necessity, and wait until I can get back."
"And we've got to thank Mr. Squaw-man for that, too!" burst out Fred wrathfully. "You never thought of going until he came; oh, I know it—I hate him!"
"He would be heart-broken if he knew it," observed her father dryly. "By the way, Miss Rachel, do you know if there is room in the ranch stables for another horse?"
"They can make room, if it is necessary. Why?"
"Genesee's mare is used up even worse than her master by the long, hard journey he has made. Our stock that is in good condition can stand our accommodations all right, but that fellow seemed miserable to think the poor beast had not quarters equal to his own. He is such a queer fellow about asking a favor that I thought—"
"And the thought does you credit," said the girl with a suspicious moisture in her eyes. "Poor, brave Mowitza! I could not sleep very soundly myself if I knew she was not cared for, and I know just how he feels. Don't say anything about it to him, but I will have my cousin come over and get her, before evening."
"You are a trump, Miss Rachel!" said the Major emphatically; "and if you can arrange it, I know you will lift a load off Genesee's mind. I'll wager he is out there in the shed with her at this moment, instead of beside a comfortable fire; and this camp owes him too much, if it only knew it, to keep from him any comforts for either himself or that plucky bit of horse-flesh."
Then the trio, under guard of the Lieutenant, paid some other calls along the avenue—were offered more dinners, if they would remain, than they could have eaten in a week; but in all their visits they saw nothing more of the scout. Rachel spoke of his return to one of the men, and received the answer that they reckoned he was putting in most of his time out in the shed tying the blankets off his bunk around that mare of his.
"Poor Mowitza! she was so beautiful," said the girl, with a memory of the silken coat and wise eyes. "I should not like to see her looking badly."