losed eyes, upturned face, and murmuring lips. It is hard to
think there could be any one untouched by the sight, though Red Feather
gave no sign of such emotion at the time.

The face of the Sioux was not painted, though it is the fashion of his
people to do so when upon the war-trail. It could not have looked more
frightful had it been daubed with streaks and spots, and Dot was
terrified. Springing to her feet, she recoiled with a gasp, and stared
at the dreadful countenance.

Red Feather beckoned as best he could for the little one to come nigh
him.

It was at this juncture that Dot uttered the cry which brought Melville
in such haste from the room above. He rushed down, loaded gun in hand,
and it is stating the matter mildly to say that he effected a change in
the situation. Startled by the sound of the steps on the stairs, Red
Feather glanced up and saw the lad, his face white with anger, and a
very dangerous-looking rifle in his hand.

"I'll teach you manners!" called out Melville, halting on reaching the
floor, and bringing his weapon to a level; "such a rogue as you ain't
fit to live."

[Illustration: "Poured out the simple prayer of faith and love."]

As you may suppose, Red Feather was satisfied that the best thing for
him to do was to leave that place as quickly as he knew how. He began
struggling fiercely to back out, and he must have been surprised when he
found he was fast, and that the more he strove to free himself the more
firmly he became wedged in.

Seeing his predicament, Melville advanced a couple of steps, holding his
weapon so that its muzzle was within arm's length of the terrified
visage of the chieftain.

"I've got you, Red Feather!" said the exultant youth; "and the best
thing I can do is to shoot you."

"Oh, Mel!" called Dot, running towards her brother, "don't hurt him,
for that would be wicked."

I must do Melville Clarendon the justice to state that he had no
intention of shooting the Sioux chieftain who was caught fast in such a
curious way. Such an act would have been cruel, though many persons
would say it was right, because Red Feather was trying to slay both
Melville and his little sister.

But the youth could not help enjoying the strange fix in which the
Indian was caught, and he meant to make the best use of it. It is not
often that an American Indian loses his wits when in danger, but Red
Feather, for a few minutes, was under the control of a feeling such as a
soldi