Bob Hampton of Placer

"Has he roused up?" he questioned of the trooper on guard.

"Not to know nuthin', sir. He's bin swearin' an' gurglin' most o' ther

time, but he's asleep now, I reckon."

The young officer stood silent, his face pale, his gaze upon the

distant Indian fires. Out yonder were defeat, torture, death, and

to-morrow meant a renewal of the struggle. His heart was heavy with

foreboding, his memory far away with one to whom all this misfortune

might come almost as a death-blow. It was Naida's questioning face

that haunted him; she was waiting for she knew not what.