t or spear, and find a nameless grave."

A long silence ensued. Alfred had spoken quietly, but with an
undercurrent of bitterness that saddened Betty. For the first time
she saw a shadow of pain in his eyes. She looked away down the
valley, not seeing the brown and gold hills boldly defined against
the blue sky, nor the beauty of the river as the setting sun cast a
ruddy glow on the water. Her companion's words had touched an
unknown chord in her heart. When finally she turned to answer him a
beautiful light shone in her eyes, a light that shines not on land
or sea--the light of woman's hope.

"Mr. Clarke," she said, and her voice was soft and low, "I am only a
girl, but I can understand. You are unhappy. Try to rise above it.
Who knows what will befall this little settlement? It may be swept
away by the savages, and it may grow to be a mighty city. It must
take that chance. So must you, so must we all take chances. You are
here. Find your work and do it cheerfully, honestly, and let the
future take care of itself. And let me say--do not be
offended--beware of idleness and drink. They are as great a
danger--nay, greater than the Indians."

"Miss Zane, if you were to ask me not to drink I would never touch a
drop again," said Alfred, earnestly.

"I did not ask that," answered Betty, flushing slightly. "But I
shall remember it as a promise and some day I may ask it of you."

He looked wonderingly at the girl beside him. He had spent most of
his life among educated and cultured people. He had passed several
years in the backwoods. But with all his experience with people he
had to confess that this young woman was as a revelation to him. She
could ride like an Indian and shoot like a hunter. He had heard that
she could run almost as swiftly as her brothers. Evidently she
feared nothing, for he had just seen an example of her courage in a
deed that had tried even his own nerve, and, withal, she was a
bright, happy girl, earnest and true, possessing all the softer
graces of his sisters, and that exquisite touch of feminine delicacy
and refinement which appeals more to men than any other virtue.

"Have you not met Mr. Miller before he came here from Fort Pitt?"
asked Betty.

"Why do you ask?"

"I think he mentioned something of the kind."

"What else did he say?"

"Why--Mr. Clarke, I hardly remember."

"I see," said Alfred, his face darkening. "He has talked about me. I
do not care what he said. I knew him at Fo