"No," she said, "I forbid you to come. You are not doing right. You are
to stay. We will save my brother."

She glided through the bushes from his sight and was gone.

"Am I a fool or what?" said the doctor to himself. "She is taking a
chance, but after all it is worth while."

It was now the middle of the afternoon and it would take Moira an hour
and a half over that rocky winding trail to make the ten miles that
lay before her. Ten minutes more would see the Police started on their
return. The doctor settled himself down to his three hours' wait,
keeping his eye fixed upon the Indian. The latter was now busy with his
meal, which he ate ravenously.

"The beggar has me tied up tight," muttered the doctor ruefully. "My
grub is on my saddle, and I guess I dare not smoke till he lights up
himself."

A hand touched his arm. Instantly he was on his feet. It was Moira.

"Great Caesar, you scared me! Thought it was the whole Blackfoot tribe."

"You will be the better for something to eat," she said simply, handing
him the lunch basket. "Good-by."

"Hold up!" he cried. But she was gone.

"Say, she's a regular--" He paused and thought for a moment. "She's an
angel, that's what--and a mighty sight better than most of them. She's
a--" He turned back to his watch, leaving his thought unspoken. In the
presence of the greater passions words are woefully inadequate.

The Indian was still eating as ravenously as ever.

"He's filling up, I guess. He ought to be full soon at that rate. Wish
he'd get his pipe agoing."

In due time the Indian finished eating, rolled up the fragments
carefully in a rag, and then proceeded to construct with the poles and
brush which he had cut, a penthouse against the rock. At one end his
little shelter thus constructed ran into a spruce tree whose thick
branches reached right to the ground. When he had completed this shelter
to his satisfaction he sat down again on the rock beside his smoldering
fire and pulled out his pipe.

"Thanks be!" said the doctor to himself fervently. "Go on, old boy, hit
her up."

A pipe and then another the Indian smoked, then, taking his gun, blanket
and pack, he crawled into his brush wigwam out of sight.

"There, you old beggar!" said the doctor with a sigh of relief. "You are
safe for an hour or two, thank goodness. You had no sleep last night and
you've got to make up for it now. Sleep tight, old boy. We'll give you a
call." The doctor hugged himself with