“All?”

“Yes, that we are engaged; I am proud to have them know.”

The truth was shining in her eyes, glowing on her cheeks.  She leaned forward.

“Kiss me, and believe!”

“Molly, Molly,” he whispered.  “Never will I doubt again.”

They could perceive the blue of the overcoats as they rode over the ridge, and at their sudden appearance the little column of horsemen came to a halt.  Hamlin flung up one hand in signal, and the two urged their ponies down the side of the hill.  Three men spurred forth to meet them, spreading out slightly as though still suspicious of some trick, but, as they drew near, the leader suddenly waved his hand, and they dashed forward.

“Hamlin!  Glad to see you again,” the first rider greeted the Sergeant cordially.  “Can this be Major McDonald’s daughter.”

“Yes, Major Elliott; I can repeat the story as we ride along, sir.  You are the advance of Custer’s expedition, I presume?”

“We are; the others are some miles behind, moving slowly so that the wagons can keep within touch.  Wonderful the way those wagons have pushed ahead over the rough country.  Have only missed camp twice since we left Dodge.”

“When was that, sir?”

“Before the blizzard all except your troop were at Camp Supply; they had joined since, and it was then we heard about your trip down here.  What became of your men, Sergeant?”

“Wasson and one private were killed, sir; the other private was frozen so badly I had to leave him in shelter on the Cimarron.”

“By gad, it sounds interesting; and so you tackled the villains alone, and had some fight at that before rescuing Miss McDonald.  Well, the story will keep until we make camp again.  However,” and he bent low over the lady’s hand, “I must congratulate Miss McDonald on her escaping without any serious injury.”

“That is not all I should be congratulated upon, Major Elliott,” she said quietly.

“No—­eh—­perhaps I do not understand.”

“I desire that you shall; I refer to my engagement to Sergeant Hamlin.”

The officer glanced in some bewilderment from her face to that of the silent trooper.

“You—­you mean matrimonial?” he stammered, plainly embarrassed, unable so suddenly to grasp the peculiar situation.  “Hamlin, what—­what does this mean?”

“Miss Molly and I have known each other for some time,” explained the Sergeant bluntly.  “Out here alone we discovered we were more than friends.  That is all, sir.”

For an instant Elliott hesitated, held by the strange etiquette of rank, then the gentleman conquered the soldier, and he drew off his glove, and held out his hand.

“I can congratulate you, Miss McDonald,” he exclaimed frankly.  “I have known Sergeant Hamlin for two years; he is a soldier and a gentleman.”

The red blood swept into her cheeks, her eyes brightening.