They caught us in a canyon somewhere out yonder, maybe three or four days ago; there was a lot killed, some of them soldiers.
My dad was shot, and then that night he--he got me out up the rocks, and he--he was carrying me in his arms when I--I fainted, I saw there was blood on his shirt, and it was dripping down on the grass as he walked.

That's about all I know." "Who is the man?
What's his name ?" The girl looked squarely into the lieutenant's eyes, and, for some reason which she could never clearly explain even to herself, lied calmly.

"I don't know; I never asked." Sergeant Carson rose stiffly from his knees beside the extended figure and strode heavily across toward where they were sitting, lifting his hand in soldierly salute, his heels clicking as he brought them sharply together in military precision.
"The fellow is getting his eyes open, sir," he reported, "and is breathing more regular.

Purty weak yit, but he'll come round in time." He stared curiously down at the girl now sitting up unsupported, while a sudden look of surprised recognition swept across his face.
"Great guns!" he exclaimed, eagerly, "but I know you.

You're old man Gillis's gal from Bethune, ain't ye ?" The quickly uplifted dark eyes seemed to lighten the ghastly pallor of her face, and her lips trembled.