pass the killing of a man.

"Well, Jim, you're here now, and there's no help for it. We'll go
along with this Moravian preacher and his nieces. If you haven't any
great regrets for the past, why, all may be well yet. I can see that
the border is the place for me. But now, Jim, for once in your life
take a word of advice from me. We're out on the frontier, where
every man looks after himself. Your being a minister won't protect
you here where every man wears a knife and a tomahawk, and where
most of them are desperadoes. Cut out that soft voice and most of
your gentle ways, and be a little more like your brother. Be as kind
as you like, and preach all you want to; but when some of these
buckskin-legged frontiermen try to walk all over you, as they will,
take your own part in a way you have never taken it before. I had my
lesson the first few days out with that wagon-train. It was a case
of four fights; but I'm all right now."

"Joe, I won't run, if that's what you mean," answered Jim, with a
laugh. "Yes, I understand that a new life begins here, and I am
content. If I can find my work in it, and remain with you, I shall
be happy."

"Ah! old Mose! I'm glad to see you," Joe cried to the big dog who
came nosing round him. "You've brought this old fellow; did you
bring the horses?"

"Look behind the wagon."

With the dog bounding before him, Joe did as he was directed, and
there found two horses tethered side by side. Little wonder that his
eyes gleamed with delight. One was jet-black; the other iron-gray
and in every line the clean-limbed animals showed the thoroughbred.
The black threw up his slim head and whinnied, with affection
clearly shining in his soft, dark eyes as he recognized his master.

"Lance, old fellow, how did I ever leave you!" murmured Joe, as he
threw his arm over the arched neck. Mose stood by looking up, and
wagging his tail in token of happiness at the reunion of the three
old friends. There were tears in Joe's eyes when, with a last
affectionate caress, he turned away from his pet.

"Come, Jim, I'll take you to Mr. Wells."

They stated across the little square, while Mose went back under the
wagon; but at a word from Joe he bounded after them, trotting
contentedly at their heels. Half way to the cabins a big, raw-boned
teamster, singing in a drunken voice, came staggering toward them.
Evidently he had just left the group of people who had gathered near
the Indians.

"I didn't expect to s