upon the suggestion, Robert turned his attention to his host, and they talked until the pangs of hunger were somewhat satisfied. The Lieutenant and his wife followed them to the door.
"Tell my mother I'm coming over to see her this afternoon," said Mrs. Howard.
"All right," answered Robert. "Who's 'mother'?" he asked, when they got outside.
"Mrs. Mackenzie, of course. Don't you know your own relations when you see 'em? Mrs. Howard is your aunt's daughter and your uncle's step-daughter, so she's your cousin."
"Cousin-in-law, I guess," said Robert. "My father was Uncle John's half-brother, so we're not very closely related. She's nice, though. I wish she were my cousin."
"Coffee doesn't come up to her mother's," soliloquised George, "but it's pretty good. Hello, Doc!" he shouted, to a man on the opposite side of the parade-ground. "Had your breakfast?"
"Good Heavens!" ejaculated Forsyth, "you aren't going to eat again, are you?"
The Ensign turned upon him a look of reproach. "My rations aren't meant for full-grown men," he explained. "If I couldn't get a bite outside occasionally, I'd dry up and blow away. There's a squaw down in the hollow who cooks a pretty good mess, and you can get a bowl of it for a fist of beads. It isn't overly clean, and it's my private opinion it's yellow dog, stewed, or perhaps I should say, curried, but a starving man can't afford to be particular."
"Take me some time," Forsyth suggested carelessly; "I've never eaten dog."
"All right," was the jovial answer, "we'll go. Come on over and meet the Doc."
Robert was duly presented to Doctor Norton, whom the soldier characterised as "the pill roller of the garrison," and soon seized an opportunity to ask him the exact capacity of the human stomach.
"It varies," answered the Doctor, wrinkling his brows in deep thought. "Some people" —
"We must go," George interrupted. "It's time for school."
They parted on the bank of the river, Robert studiously avoiding an opportunity to shake hands. When he entered the house, his pupils were waiting for him.
The room set aside for educational purposes was just off the living-room and a bright fire was burning on the hearth. He found it difficult to teach three grades at once, and soon arranged alternate study and recitation for each, dismissing Maria Indiana in an hour with the first three letters of the alphabet well learned.
The window, like the others in the house, commanded a view of the river and the Fort, and gave a glimpse of the boundless plains beyond. Soldiers went in and out of the stockade, apparently at pleasure, and one or two of them came across, but he looked in vain for the stalwart young officer whom he was proud to call his friend.
At dinner-time he inquired about the neighbours.
"Neighbours?" repeated Mrs. Mackenzie, laughing; "why, we haven't any, except at the Fort."
"Are you and Uncle John really the only people here?" he asked, seriously.
"No, not that. There are a few houses here. Mr. and Mrs. Burns live in one – they are our nearest neighbours – and away up beyond is Lee's place. They don't have anything to do with us, nor we with them. Two or three men and a boy live there, I believe, but we don't see much of them. They're part French and part Indian. Chandonnais used to live with them, and when we came here, he came to us. I guess that's one reason why they don't like us, for Chan's a good boy."
"And Margaret?"
Mrs. Mackenzie's face changed. "Poor old thing," she said sadly, "no one knows where or how she lives. We are not afraid of her, but the Indians are. They wouldn't touch a crazy person under any circumstances."
"Is there a regular Indian settlement here?"
"Yes, there are wigwams all along the river. They are all Pottawattomies and very friendly. The Chippewa and Winnebago tribes are farther north. John has a gift for dealing with the Indians. He has learned their language and their ways, and they treat him as if he were one of them. Did George show you the Fort this morning?"
"Most of it," smiled Forsyth. "We called on the commissioned officers and that young giant ate a hearty breakfast at each place."
"He is the life of the settlement, and I don't know what we'd do without him. I never saw anybody with such an inexhaustible fund of good spirits. Nothing is so bad that George can't get a joke out of it and make us laugh in spite of our trouble. Did you see Doctor Norton?"
"Yes, but only for a moment."
"He's jolly too, and very good to all of us."
"I forgot to tell you when I first came in," said Robert, "but I met Mrs. Howard and she asked me to tell you that she was coming over to see you this afternoon."
"Bless her heart," said Mrs. Mackenzie, tenderly, "she never forgets her old mother."
"You'll never be old, Aunt Eleanor. I believe you have found the fountain of eternal youth."
"What, another flatterer?" she asked, but the heightened colour in her cheeks showed that she was pleased.
During the afternoon, while Johnny struggled manfully with digits and addition, Robert saw Mrs. Howard coming across the river. She was a fair, tall woman, very blonde, with eyes like her mother's. The Doctor stood at the entrance of the stockade, watching her, with something akin to wistfulness in his attitude.
"Poor soul," thought Robert, "I expect he's lonesome."
The afternoon sun stole into the room, marking out patches of light upon the rag carpet which covered the floor, and touched the rude logs kindly as if to gild, rather than to reveal. In the next room women's voices sounded, indistinct, but pleasant, with here and there a low, musical laugh, and the teacher fell to dreaming.
"How many are two and two, Cousin Rob?" Johnny asked, for the third time.
"Four – don't you remember? You learned that this morning."
"Can I go now? I want to see my sister."
"Yes, run along."
The patter of feet died away in the distance, but Robert still looked out upon the river with a smile upon his face. Presently he saw Mrs. Howard going toward the Fort, with two of the children capering along beside her. Something stirred in the dreamer's pulses, indefinite, but none the less real. What man can place it, or knows it when it comes – that first vague longing for a home of his own?
The minutes went by and the light faded until the blood-red sunset fired the Fort and stained the snowy reaches beyond. A door opened, a kettle sang, and some one came in.
"Asleep, dear?"
"No, Aunt Eleanor." He went to her, put his arm around her, and touched her cheek lightly with his lips. "I was only thinking that my lines have fallen in pleasant places."
CHAPTER III
THE SECOND IN COMMAND
"Kit," said the Lieutenant, pacing back and forth moodily, "I wish I were in command."
"I wish so, too, dear," responded Mrs. Howard, dutifully.
"Anybody with half an eye can see what is going to happen here, if there isn't a change."
"What change do you mean, Ralph?"
"Any kind of a change," he snapped angrily. "We've got a figure-head for a Captain and the men haven't the faintest idea of military training. There's no reason for postponing drill on account of bad weather – the men haven't been out for over a week now, just because it's cold. The Captain sits by his fire, studying tactics and making out imaginary reports, while his men are suffering for discipline – and clothes," he added as an afterthought.
"What can Captain Franklin do about their clothes?"
"What can he do? Nothing, it seems; but I could. I'd send a man to President Madison himself, if there was no other way. Look at us! We look like Washington's army at Valley Forge!"
The Lieutenant brushed away an imaginary speck on a very shabby uniform. "I'm sorry I entered the army," he went on.