as the first to speak.

"You come? On this night?" she questioned, choosing her English words with
her usual care.

The girl permitted no unnecessary delay in plunging into the object of her
visit.

"Yes, yes, my Wana," she replied, drawing the tall woman to her, so that,
in the dim starlight, they sat together on the edge of the bed. Her action
was one of tender affection. Wanaha submitted, well pleased that her
white friend had allowed nothing of the doings of her people to come
between them. "Yes, I come to you for help. I come to you because I want
to remove the cause of all the trouble between your people and mine. Do
you know the source of the trouble? I'll tell you. I am!"

Rosebud looked fixedly in the great dark eyes, so soft yet so radiant in
the starlight.

"I know. It is--my brother. He want you. He fight for you. Kill, slay. It
matter not so he have you."

The woman nodded gravely. The girl's heart bounded, for she saw that her
task was to be an easy one.

"Yes, so it is. I have thought much about this thing. I should never have
come back to the farm. It was bad."

Again Wanaha nodded.

"And that is why I come to you. I love my friends. There is some one I
love, like you love your Nevil, and I want to save him. They will all be
killed if I stay, for your brother is mighty--a great warrior. So I am
going away."

Rosebud's allusion to the squaw's love for her husband was tactful. She
was completely won. The girl, who was clasping one of Wanaha's hands, felt
a warm, responsive pressure of sympathy, and she knew.

"Yes, now I want you to help me," she hurried on. "To go as I am now, a
white girl in white girl's clothing, would be madness. I know your people.
I should never escape their all-seeing eyes. I must go like one of your
people."

"You would be--a squaw?" A wonderful smile was in the great black eyes as
Wanaha put the question.

"Yes."

"Yes, I see. Wana sees." A rising excitement seemed to stir the squaw. She
came closer to her white friend and spoke quickly, stumbling over her
English in a manner she would never have permitted in cooler moments. "An'
in these way you mak' yourself go. You fly, you run; so my brother, the
great chief, no more you find. Yes? Then him say, 'him gone.' We no more
use him fight. We go by tepee quick. An' there is great peace. Is that
how?"

"That is it," cried Rosebud, in her eagerness flinging her arms about the
squaw's neck. "We must be quick. Seth w