An Apache Princess

"Well, no, sir; we can't see much of anything, it's so dark. But

there's a good many of the post people up and moving about, excited, I

suppose. There were lights there at the lieutenant's, Mr. Blakely's, a

while ago, and--voices." No. 4 pointed to the dark gable end barely

forty yards away.

"That's simple enough," said Wren. "People would naturally come up to

this end to see what had become of us, why we had gone, etc. They

heard of it, I dare say, and some were probably startled."

"Yes, sir, it sounded like--somebody cryin'."

Wren was turning away. "What?" he suddenly asked.

No. 4 repeated his statement. Wren pondered a moment, started to

speak, to question further, but checked himself and trudged

thoughtfully away through the yielding sand. The nearest path led past

the first quarters, Blakely's, on the eastward side, and as the

captain neared the house he stopped short. Somewhere in the shadows of

the back porch low, murmuring voices were faintly audible. One, in

excited tone, was not that of a man, and as Wren stood, uncertain and

surprised, the rear door was quickly opened and against the faint

light from within two dark forms were projected. One, the taller, he

recognized beyond doubt as that of Neil Blakely; the other he did not

recognize at all. But he had heard the tone of the voice. He knew the

form to be, beyond doubt, that of a young and slender woman. Then

together the shadows disappeared within and the door was closed behind

them.