e wagon, and only the night wind moving round
it. But lo! the lashes of the sleeping White Chief--the dauntless
leader, the ruthless destroyer of Indians--were wet with glittering
tears!

Yet it seemed only a moment afterwards that he awoke with a faint
consciousness of some arrested motion. To his utter consternation,
the sun, three hours high, was shining in the wagon, already hot and
stifling in its beams. There was the familiar smell and taste of the
dirty road in the air about him. There was a faint creaking of boards
and springs, a slight oscillation, and beyond the audible rattle of
harness, as if the train had been under way, the wagon moving, and then
there had been a sudden halt. They had probably come up with the Silsbee
train; in a few moments the change would be effected and all of his
strange experience would be over. He must get up now. Yet, with the
morning laziness of the healthy young animal, he curled up a moment
longer in his luxurious couch.

How quiet it was! There were far-off voices, but they seemed suppressed
and hurried. Through the window he saw one of the teamsters run rapidly
past him with a strange, breathless, preoccupied face, halt a moment at
one of the following wagons, and then run back again to the front.

Then two of the voices came nearer, with the dull beating of hoofs in
the dust.

"Rout out the boy and ask him," said a half-suppressed, impatient voice,
which Clarence at once recognized as the man Harry's.

"Hold on till Peyton comes up," said the second voice, in a low tone;
"leave it to him."

"Better find out what they were like, at once," grumbled Harry.

"Wait, stand back," said Peyton's voice, joining the others; "I'LL ask
him."

Clarence looked wonderingly at the door. It opened on Mr. Peyton, dusty
and dismounted, with a strange, abstracted look in his face.

"How many wagons are in your train, Clarence?"

"Three, sir."

"Any marks on them?"

"Yes, sir," said Clarence, eagerly: "'Off to California' and 'Root, Hog,
or Die.'"

Mr. Peyton's eye seemed to leap up and hold Clarence's with a sudden,
strange significance, and then looked down.

"How many were you in all?" he continued.

"Five, and there was Mrs. Silsbee."

"No other woman?"

"No."

"Get up and dress yourself," he said gravely, "and wait here till I
come back. Keep cool and have your wits about you." He dropped his
voice slightly. "Perhaps something's happened that you'll have to show
you