call him an Indian,
too? Eh? What's the matter? We're walking too fast. Stop a moment and
rest. There--there, lean on me!"

She was none too soon; for, after holding him upright a moment, his
limbs failed, and stooping gently she was obliged to support him half
reclining against a tree.

"It's the heat!" he said. "Give me some whiskey from my flask. Never
mind the water," he added faintly, with a forced laugh, after he had
taken a draught at the strong spirit. "Tell me more about the other
water--the Sleeping Water, you know. How do you know all this about him
and his--father?"

"Partly from him and partly from Curson, who wrote to me about him,"
she answered, with some hesitation.

But Dunn did not seem to notice this incongruity of correspondence with
a former lover. "And _he_ told you?"

"Yes; and I saw the name on an old memorandum-book he has, which he
says belonged to his father. It's full of old accounts of some trading
post on the frontier. It's been missing for a day or two, but it will
turn up. But I can swear I saw it."

Dunn attempted to rise to his feet. "Put your hand in my pocket," he
said in a hurried whisper. "No, there!--bring out a book. There, I
haven't looked at it yet. Is that it?" he added, handing her the book
Brace had given him a few hours before.

"Yes," said Teresa, in surprise. "Where did you find it?"

"Never mind! Now let me see it, quick. Open it, for my sight is
failing. There--thank you--that's all!"

"Take more whiskey," said Teresa, with a strange anxiety creeping over
her. "You are faint again."

"Wait! Listen, Teresa--lower--put your ear lower. Listen! I came near
killing that chap Low to-day. Wouldn't it have been ridiculous?"

He tried to smile, but his head fell back. He had fainted.

CHAPTER IX.

For the first time in her life Teresa lost her presence of mind in an
emergency. She could only sit staring at the helpless man, scarcely
conscious of his condition, her mind filled with a sudden prophetic
intuition of the significance of his last words. In the light of that
new revelation she looked into his pale, haggard face for some
resemblance to Low, but in vain. Yet her swift feminine instinct met
the objection. "It's the mother's blood that would show," she murmured,
"not this man's."

Recovering herself, she began to chafe his hands and temples, and
moistened his lips with the spirit. When his respiration returned with
a faint color to his cheeks, she press