ed on his arm.
Both girls ran toward him, but Jack did not hear Olive's quick
exclamation. Fortunately she knew the trick of opening the trap, for the
moment the wires released their cruel hold on the boy, he fainted
quietly in Olive's outstretched arms. He was about ten or twelve years
old, incredibly thin, with coal-black hair that fell in straight lines
to his shoulders, strange, dark eyes with the look of far places in
them, and a skin the color of burnished copper.

"It is Carlos, little Carlos!" Olive exclaimed wonderingly. "Jack, don't
you remember my telling you about the Indian boy who helped me to come
home to you when I was stolen by old Laska? I wonder how in the world
he has managed to find us."

Jack did not wait to answer Olive. Running at once to the creek for
water, she signaled Jean to join them, and together the girls bathed the
boy's face until he returned to consciousness.

Then Carlos calmly explained to Olive that he always had meant to find
her some day. With her image ever before him and the names of the
Ralston girls and the Rainbow Ranch ever sounding in his ears, the lad
had remained quietly in the desert with his own people until the coming
of spring. When the nomad tribe started south, Carlos had journeyed with
them until they again struck camp, then he had traveled on alone, asking
hundreds of questions and covering more miles than he was able to count.
Unconscious of the fact he had come at length within the limits of
Rainbow Ranch, and when he most needed her, Olive, like a good angel,
had appeared to him. Yet Carlos took her coming calmly. Miracles are
every-day occurrences to the Indian. Wiser than the wisest of us, he
knows that, in spite of all the explanations of science, the rising and
the setting of the sun, the life of a flower, most of the things he
sees in his world, are nature's miracles. So the miracle of Olive's
discovery seemed to Carlos only another mysterious gift from the unknown
Father.

Scorning to have his wounded arm bandaged, the boy soon started homeward
with the girls. Jim and Frieda were waiting in front of the Lodge for
them to return to breakfast. Jim laughed and Frieda stared when they
beheld four figures on horseback instead of three.

"Well, Jack, who is your latest find?" Jim called out cheerfully, waving
his hand to Jack in token of peace and good fellowship.

The horses stopped, and the Indian boy slid off from behind Olive's
saddle and stood erect