sure when she first saw Carlos,
but instead kept quite still.

The lad had made himself a whistle from a stalk of wild grass that grew
like a reed. He was wandering along searching everywhere for Jack, yet
beguiling his way with wonderful woodland noises which he made through
his whistle. A robin sat perched on his black hair, several other birds
fluttered over his head, afraid to alight and yet unwilling to leave
him. If Jack had suggested the huntress Diana, Carlos looked like a
follower of Pan. Surely in mythological days just such red-brown boys
had accompanied the old wood god, making the weird and eerie music that
caused a smile to hover ever on his wild face.

The caravan party, except Jim and the truants, were eating luncheon when
Jack and Carlos burst in upon them. Jack flew to Ruth, flinging her arms
about her and giving her a breathless hug. "It was all my fault, as
usual," she explained, "but there is nothing the matter with me except a
bruise on my forehead and an empty feeling in another place." Jack
stopped, suddenly discovering the presence of the stranger, Ralph
Merrit.

Hugging Jack with one arm, Ruth respectfully shook hands with Carlos
with the other. The small lad tried not to show emotion, but a light of
triumph shone in his eyes. He and not the "Big White Chief" had found
"The Girl Who Was Never Afraid." Now surely he would be forgiven the sin
of his failure to keep faith.

Worn and haggard, Jim returned a few hours later to find his
fellow-travelers engaged in cheerful conversation and seemingly
forgetful of the strain.

"I hope nothing will happen to me again while we are on this trip," Jack
remarked carelessly. "I thought last night in the storm that the gypsy
who came to our ranch had surely put her curse on me. You know she
announced that something would happen to me that would force me to
depend on other people, and as I had to depend on Carlos to show me the
way home to the caravan, perhaps the spell is past."

Olive, sitting next Jack, gave a shudder. She had never confessed how
much she had thought of the woman's evil words to her, but Frieda, who
was playing with the stones Jack had brought back from the gold mine,
made a quick turn in the conversation.

"Jean," she announced indignantly, "you told me you'd give me the gold
Jim and Jack brought from the mine with them, and now they haven't
brought any, because Ralph Merrit says these rocks are no better than
other pebbles. I rea