... Big, hulking fellow--red, ugly face
--bad look."
"That's Fresno. He and the gang must have been camped with those
graders you brought here. Oh, I'm more afraid of Fresno's gang than
of the Indians."
"But Allie--they don't know you're here. You're safe. The troops
will be back soon, and drive these Indians away."
Allie clung to Neale, and again he felt something of the terror
these ruffians had inspired in her. He reassured her, assuming a
confidence he was far from feeling, and cautioned her to stay in
that protected corner. Then he went in the other room to his
station. It angered Neale, and alarmed him, that another peril
perhaps menaced Allie. And he prayed for the return of the troops.
The day passed swiftly, in intense watchfulness on the part of the
defenders, and in a waiting game on the part of the besiegers. They
kept up a desultory firing all afternoon. Now and then a reckless
grader running from post to post drew a volley from the Sioux; and
likewise something that looked like an Indian would call forth shots
from the defenses. But there was no real fighting.
It developed that the Sioux were waiting for night. A fiery arrow,
speeding from a bow in the twilight, left a curve of sparks in the
air, like a falling rocket. It appeared to be a signal for
demoniacal yells on all sides.
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