n put a comforting arm about the shoulders of the panic-stricken
girl.

"You dear little frightened bird! Don't be afraid, I will not tell. And
remember, I am to be a real brother to you. No matter what any one says,
you are to trust in my care and protection."

One of Elsie's arms timidly stole up about his neck. From across the
room sounded a hiccough that ended in a dry hacking cough. Lennon jerked
his head around. The besotted face of Farley, ghastly white and
blear-eyed, was leering at them through a hole in the rear wall.

Before Lennon could free himself from the soft clasp of the girl's arm
and dash across the room, the eavesdropper had disappeared. Elsie darted
after Lennon to clutch his half-raised rifle.

"Don't shoot--don't shoot!" she begged. "It's only Dad. He's having one
of his spells. But he won't hurt you--not if you keep by me."

Lennon peered through the hole in the wall. He made out the flaccid form
of Farley, outstretched upon the stone floor in a drunken stupor. The
man evidently had been on the verge of unconsciousness when he leered
through the hole. The chance was slight that he would ever remember
anything of what he had seen or heard.

With a feeling of disgust that was not unmingled with relief, Lennon
started back to the outer window. An odour of scorched food sent Elsie
flying to her neglected pots. As half in the deep window embrazure,
Lennon paused to watch her, the overhanging cliff ledges reverberated
with an impatient call. He reluctantly turned his gaze away from the
graceful little cook to look down below the window. Carmena stood
waiting, with the end of the hoist rope looped about her.

Lennon's steady winding at the windlass soon brought up the living load
to the crane. Elsie darted out to swing her foster-sister around into
the opening and take from her the brimming pail of goat's milk. Carmena
looked down at Lennon's bandaged hand, which was gripped upon the crank
of the windlass.

"You ought to be careful," she gravely warned him. "Working won't help
your hurt."

"On the contrary, the wounds are fast healing, and use of the hand tends
to bring back its strength. It is already much improved."

"Good."

"I shall leave off the bandages after to-night."

Carmena's eyes narrowed.

"No. You're to keep them on, and don't let any one else--even Dad--see
your hand. The more helpless Slade and Cochise think you are, the
better."

To this Lennon readily agreed. His know