e was unchanged, the same strong gray man, with the ruddy face. He
was not unhappy here despite the seeming incongruity of his presence.
The wilderness appealed to him too in a way, he was the intellectual
leader of the colony and almost everything that his nature called for
met with a response.

"The spring is here, Lucy," he said, "and it has been an easy winter. We
should be thankful that we have fared so well."

"I think that most of us are," she replied. "We'll soon be a big town."

She glanced at the spreading settlement, and this launched Mr.
Pennypacker upon a favorite theme of his. He liked to predict how the
colony would grow, sowing new seed, and already he saw great cities to
be. He found a ready listener in Lucy. This too appealed to her
imagination at times, and if at other times interest was lacking, she
was too fond of the old man to let him know it. Presently when she had
finished she filled the pail and stood up, straight and strong.

"I will carry it for you," said the schoolmaster.

She laughed.

"Why should I let you?" she asked. "I am more able than you."

Most men would have taken it ill to have heard such words from a girl,
but she was one among many, above the usual height for her years; she
created at once the impression of great strength, both physical and
mental; the heavy pail of water hung in her hand, as if it were a trifle
that she did not notice. The master smiled and looked at her with eyes
of fatherly admiration.

"I must admit that you tell the truth," he said. "This West of ours
seems to suit you."

"It is my country now," she said, "and I do not care for any other."

"Since you will not let me carry the water you will at least let me walk
with you?" he said.

She did not reply, and he was startled by the sudden change that came
over her.

First a look of wonder showed on her face, then she turned white, every
particle of color leaving her cheeks. The master could not tell what her
expression meant, and he followed her eyes which were turned toward the
wilderness.

From the forest came a figure very strange to Silas Pennypacker, a
figure of barbaric splendor. It was a youth of great height and powerful
frame, his face so brown that it might belong to either the white or the
red race, but with fine clean features like those of a Greek god. He was
clad in deerskins, ornamented with little colored beads and fringes of
brilliant dyes. He carried a slender-barreled rifle o