trail. Then he gazed again searchingly into the valley below.

"What is it?" she questioned.

"A moving column of horsemen, soldiers from their formation, for
Indians never march in column of fours. They are too far away for me
to be certain yet. What troops can be away out here?"

"Wasn't there to be a winter campaign against Black Kettle?" she
questioned. "It was the rumor at Dodge. Perhaps--"

"Why, yes, that must be it," he interrupted eagerly. "Custer and the
Seventh. What luck! And I'll be in it with the boys after all."

"Shall we not ride to meet them?"

"Soon, yes; only we need to be certain first."

"Are you not?" and she rose in her stirrups. "I am sure they are
cavalrymen. Now you can see clearly as they climb the hill."

"There is no doubt," he admitted, "a single troop ahead of the main
body; the others will be beyond the bend in the stream."

He stepped back, where he could look directly into her face.

"They are soldiers all right, but that was not what I wanted to be so
certain about. When we ride down there, Molly girl, we shall be
swallowed up into the old life once more, the old army life."