s
visiting her when we crossed the river to Forty Fort yesterday morning.
We could do nothing but take her with us, and I will defend her with my
life."

"You are talking big," remarked Zitner, with a scornful look at the
sturdy lad. "Who is the gal's father?"

"That makes no difference; but I will say he belongs to the Delaware
tribe, most of whom are friends to our people."

"There were plenty of them with the Senecas and Oneidas yesterday, and
they fought like wild cats, too. But why don't you bring your folks
forward?" added Zitner, looking inquiringly around.

"I will do so. Wait a few minutes."

He strode back and over the top of the ridge, until he caught sight of
the frightened group.

"Come on!" he called, beckoning to them. "Mr. Zitner and Burwink are
here, and want to see you."

With an expression of thankfulness, Mrs. Ripley, clasping a hand of
each of the children, walked up the slope, and passed over to where the
couple awaited their approach by the camp fire. She shook hands with
each, and expressed her pleasure at meeting them. They did the same
toward her, and then all, with the exception of the children, seated
themselves on the fallen tree beside which the small fire was burning.

Mrs. Ripley had observed the little incident the preceding afternoon,
when Zitner tried to stop Linna. She was ill at ease, for she noticed
how sharply he looked at the child. She hoped, however, that now he was
fully himself, he would be ashamed of his action, or at least make no
reference to it.

No fear of her doing so. She showed her tact by leading the conversation
in another direction.

"When did you leave Wyoming?"

"Burwink and I didn't get a chance to swim over until nearly midnight,
and then we had a rough time of it. There were plenty of others that
tried to do the same and never got to this side."

"When did you leave?" asked Burwink of the lady.

"We crossed before it was dark."

"How did you manage it? Swim?"

"No; we came over in a canoe. A Delaware Indian, the father of Linna,
swam behind the boat and pushed it across. But for him, we never could
have gotten away."

Mrs. Ripley, like her son, meant to keep the name of their friend from
these men. There was no danger of either her or Ben telling it; but
neither thought of another means they had of learning it.

At this point, Alice went to her mother and leaned against her knees,
with her gaze on the faces of the men. She had been standi