Apache Canyon

The bullet took the nearest of the Indians off his saddle and dumped him on the ground; immediately, the other Apaches scattered to the cover of the rocks. Presently, he saw two men leading all the horses to a spot out of Brady's range.

Now it would begin—the slow stalk.

He picked up the rifle again and began to search for targets in the rocks below. For a while, he knew, it would be standoff-but if they could crawl too close to him before nightfall, he was done ...

Sutherland entered his quarters late in the afternoon with the dark bruise on his cheek and a little scab of dry blood at the comer of his mouth. His look was bleak. Eleanor, at the window, did not turn when he entered. For a moment he watched the cahn outline of her profile against that light Finally she turned slowly, giving him a long look and said, "Hello, George."

He said nothing in reply. Outside the parlor, heat pulsed along the ground. Eleanor said idly, "Did Lieutenant Garrett come in with the patrol?"

"No."

"I thought I heard horses."

Sutherland maintained his stiff stance. "Perhaps it was the horse traders. They brought a bimch of stock for the major to look at"

"Yes," she said, turning into the room. "Perhaps that was it." Heat was almost stifling in the low-ceilinged room. Sutherland took off his pistol belt and hat and put them on a table. His wife looked at him. "You re bruised, George." "Yes.''

"Does it hurt?" "No."

She had been fingering the pistol belt on the table. Now she turned. "I don't mean to pry if it's army business, George. But let me ask you one question." "Go ahead, my dear." ]Was it Captain Harris?"

"As a matter of fact," he said, "it was. Are you happy?" "No."

"If you're interested, nobody won the fight. We didn't stay at it very long." He smiled. "I beheve I might have licked him," he said, and nodded. "Harris is careless, and in the long run, his carelessness would have given me the opening I wanted."

"He has a reputation for being a good fighter." His eyes flashed. "Leading troops against Indians is not the same kind of fighting, my dear. But I assure you, Jll better him at both, before I'm through with him." Hi5 tone remained calm; he added, as though it were an afterthought, "I intend to see Justin Harris break, Eleanor. It will give me a certain pleasure." All the while, he watched her carefully.

"Harris won't break, George. He's not your kind of oflficer. He has the capacity to bend-that's what saves him from breaking."

"What does that mean?" He laughed shortly. And then suddenly he bent toward her and spoke with suppressed urgency: "Let me tell you something, Eleanor. There are a lot of men on this frontier like Justin Harris. They think this is a different kind of world from the world they were bom in. They think that because this country is wild and primitive and lazy, they should be that way too-wild and primitive and lazy. But I've got something to tell you about that. This is still the army and we are still civilized human beings. I don t care how far we are removed from drawing-room teas and comer newsboys-the rules are the same. You don't throw away the book when you fight the Apaches, and you don't throw away the rules when you fight for your woman. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not sure," she said, and spoke slowly: "Perhaps you had better spell it out for me, George."

He stood with his feet braced a little way apart, his body bent shghtly foward in an attitude of challenge. He said, "There is a rumor around the post that you have been seeing Justin Harris."

"I don't feel called on to apologize for rumors, or to explain them," she replied evenly.

Sutherland drew his head back. "I didn't say I believed the rumor, Eleanor. Perhaps I did at one time, but I have come to believe that Captain Harris has no particular interest in you beyond the interest that any man might show toward a pretty woman." "Then what are you so upset about?" "Do you think I'm upset, Eleanor? Not very. You'll never see the day when anything can upset me beyond the point of reason and honor."

She waved her hand vaguely. "It's all right," she said. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't let me finish what I was saying," he said stiffly.

She smiled a little. "Go on, then."

"I told you, I don't believe Harris has any designs on you. But Im not altogether convinced that the reverse is equally as untrue."

"What do you mean by that, George?" His chm lifted and he addressed her sternly. "Do you feel that you understand the kind of man I am Eleanor?"

"I think so," she said slowly. "I think I do." "I am a soldier-an ojficer." He began to pace a straight path back and forth across the room. "I'm a discipHnarian because my duty calls for it-and I do not choose to allow myself to be lax in discipline just because we are on a frontier post or because the weather happens to get hot in the summer here. I believe that the United States Cavalry is the finest body of fighting men on the face of the earth and I am proud to be a part of it. I don't beheve in appeasing Indians-because I beheve that they are savages who are born and educated for the express purpose of fighting, killing, looting and torturing their enemies. You don't make peace with people like that— you subjugate them. That's my job, and I do it as best I can. Disciphne I find is one of the most valuable means I have of insuring that my men are better fighters, under any conditions, than the Indians. I do not agree with Harris and Brady and the others that the best way to whip the Indians is to learn to fight like them. No kind of rational thinking or honorable behavior can support that kind of attitude." He stopped pacing long enough to look at her. "Do you understand what I'm talking about?" "I think so."

"Do you agree with me, Eleanor?" "I don't know," she said. "I'm not an Indian fighter, George. Why ask me questions like this? How would I know the answer?"

"I should think you wouldn't have to be a soldier to understand that laxity and sloppiness are not superior to disciphne and pride."

"Is Captain Harris lax and sloppy?" "In my opinion his methods are." "I get a different impression," she said, "when I see Sergeant Tucker drilling Hanis's company. They seem disciplined enough to me."

He shook his head in an exasperated gesture. "Marching drill and attitude are different things, Eleanor. It's the man's attitude I dislike. Can't you see that?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "I can see how you might dislike it." When she looked at him there was a strange kind of pity in her eyes.

He did not seem to notice it. He resumed his pacing. "Harris is too easy with his men-too familiar, too relaxed. It's not a soldierly attitude."

"George," she said, "haven't we gotten a bit off the subject?"

"What?" He stopped. "You were talking about rumors." "Yes." He met her glance, a bright hght in his eyes. "And you don't co

"Very well," he said grimly. "Then I'll co