s when that partner is a fiery-tempered half-breed."

"Is this shooting of Talpers going to have any effect on McFann's trial
for the other murder?" asked Helen.

"It may inflame popular sentiment against both men still
further--something that never seems to be difficult where Indians are
concerned."

Lowell tried in vain to lead the talk away from the trial.

"Look here," he exclaimed finally, "you're worrying yourself
unnecessarily over this! I don't believe you're getting much of any
sleep, and I'll bet Wong will testify that you are eating very little.
You mustn't let matters weigh on your mind so. Talpers is gone, and you
have the letter that was in his safe and that he used as a means of
worrying you. Your stepfather is getting better right along--so much so
that you can leave here at any time. Pretty soon you'll have this place
of tragedy off your mind and you'll forget all about the Indian
reservation and everything it contains. But until that time comes, I
prescribe an automobile ride for you every day. Some of the roads around
here will make it certain that you will be well shaken before the
prescription is taken."

Lowell regretted his light words as soon as he had uttered them.

"This trial is my whole life," declared the girl solemnly. "If those men
are convicted, there can never be another day of happiness for me!"

* * * * *

On the morning set for the opening of the trial, Lowell left his
automobile in front of his residence while he ate breakfast. To all
appearances there was nothing unusual about this breakfast. It was
served at the customary time and in the customary way. Apparently the
young Indian agent was interested only in the meal and in some letters
which had been sent over from the office, but finally he looked up and
smiled at the uneasiness of his housekeeper, who had cast frequent
glances out of the window.

"What is it, Mrs. Ruel?" asked Lowell.

"The Indian--Fire Bear. Has he come?"

"Oh, that's what's worrying you, is it? Well, don't let it do so any
more. He will be here all right."

Mrs. Ruel looked doubtful as she trotted to the kitchen. Returning, she
stood in the window, a steaming coffee-pot in her hands.

"Tell me what you see, Sister Annie," said Lowell smilingly.

"Nawthin' but the kids assemblin' for school. There's old Pete, the
blacksmith, purtendin' to be lookin' your machine over, when he's just
come to rubber the way I am, f'