y more attention to Wetzel's advice?"

"You should have allowed Clarke to kill him yesterday," said Isaac.
"Like as not he'll have Girty here with a lot of howling devils.
What's to be done?"

"I'll send Wetzel after him and that'll soon wind up his ball of
yarn," answered Col. Zane.

"Please--go--and find--if Mr. Clarke--"

"Yes, Betty, I'll go at once. You must not lose courage, Betty. It's
quite probable that Miller has killed Alfred and that there's worse
to follow."

"I'll come, Eb, as soon as I have told Myeerah. She is scared half
to death," said Isaac, starting for the door.

"All right, only hurry," said Col. Zane, grabbing his rifle. Without
wasting more words, and lacing up his hunting shirt as he went he
ran out of the room.

The first rays of dawn came streaking in at the window. The chill
gray light brought no cheer with its herald of the birth of another
day. For what might the morning sun disclose? It might shine on a
long line of painted Indians. The fresh breeze from over the river
might bring the long war whoop of the savage.

No wonder Noah and his brother, awakened by the voice of their
father, sat up in their little bed and looked about with frightened
eyes. No wonder Mrs. Zane's face blanched. How many times she had
seen her husband grasp his rifle and run out to meet danger!

"Bessie," said Betty. "If it's true I will not be able to bear it.
It's all my fault."

"Nonsense! You heard Eb say Miller and Clarke had quarreled before.
They hated each other before they ever saw you."

A door banged, quick footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Isaac came
rushing into the room. Betty, deathly pale, stood with her hands
pressed to her bosom, and looked at Isaac with a question in her
eyes that her tongue could not speak.

"Betty, Alfred's badly hurt, but he's alive. I can tell you no more
now," said Isaac. "Bessie, bring your needle, silk linen,
liniment--everything you need for a bad knife wound, and come
quickly."

Betty's haggard face changed as if some warm light had been
reflected on it; her lips moved, and with a sob of thankfulness she
fled to her room.

Two hours later, while Annie was serving breakfast to Betty and
Myeerah, Col. Zane strode into the room.

"Well, one has to eat whatever happens," he said, his clouded face
brightening somewhat. "Betty, there's been bad work, bad work. When
I got to Clarke's room I found him lying on the bed with a knife
sticking in him. As it i