ropped his bow and endeavored to
hurl me to the ground. As we whirled about I saw Patricia kneeling beside
Lost Sister and striving to pet her back to life. One glimpse, and then
all my attention was needed for my adversary. He was quicker than I, and
his freshly oiled body made him hard to hold; but I was far the stronger.

"His knife, Basdel; Look out;" screamed Patricia; and I was glad to note
there was no madness in her voice.

I had him by his right wrist, my left arm shoved under his chin and into
his red throat. The girl's gaze sent my gaze downward. He was trying to
work the knife from its sheath before I could force him backward or break
his neck. But the sheath was too long for the knife and he could not reach
the handle with his fingers until he had forced the blade upward by
pinching the tip of the sheath. I did not try to interfere with his
maneuver, but settled myself solidly to hold him from escaping.

"The knife, Basdel!" she shrilly repeated. Then she nearly upset my
calculations by trying to thrust a bough between my foe's feet. Only by a
nimble maneuver did I escape being tripped; but it was heartening to know
Patricia could respond to my needs.

"Stand clear!" I panted. "I have him!"

"But the knife!" she despairingly cried.

"He's getting it for me!" I replied.

Now he had managed to work the haft clear of the leather and his left hand
was closing on it. His eyes told me that much. Instantly I changed my
tactics. I dropped my left arm to seize his left wrist. I released his
right wrist and with my free hand tore the weapon from his grasp. He
struck me in the head with his free fist, but I felt it none as he did not
have the white man's trick of delivering a buffet. We went down side by
side, and by the time we had rolled over once he was dead by his own
knife.

Retaining the weapon, I ran to Patricia as she collapsed by the side of
the dying woman.

"I am all right! Get up!" I commanded.

Cousin's sister smiled grimly, and whispered:

"He has been watching us. He saw me come here when I scratched the tree.
He has been hiding--The marks I made on the honey-tree--Look behind
it--the pea-vines--. Tell Shelby I send him a little sister--" And she had
solved all her problems, and had passed into the compassion of the manito
whose gentleness and understanding surpass all comprehension.

Patricia was weeping softly, as one who sorrows with an aching heart, but
not as one who is afraid. I gath