ze me if we
meet again. My name is Antoinette Le Claire. Now I _must_ go. The
good Lord help you," and she waddled off, in precise imitation of a
fat old squaw.

"Now I must be brave," thought Little Wolf, pressing her hand on her
brow, while she tried to think what plan to pursue.

Her first thought was for her father's safety, who was, as usual, at
the brewery, where he had gone soon after dinner, and as he had not
been there long, she hoped he was not, as yet, intoxicated.

Stepping to the door, she hailed daddy, who was busy storing away some
vegetables in the cellar, for winter use. "See here, daddy, I want you
to go down to the brewery as quick as you can, and tell father--well,
tell him I'm sick, and want to see him right away."

"'Tween you and me, honey,"--

"O, go, this minute, daddy," and she shut the door in his face, and
proceeded to the kitchen, where she found mammy quietly smoking her
pipe in the corner.

"O, mammy, where is Sorrel Top?" said she.

"Sorrel Top, why she's picking grapes for that are jelly you wanted
made. I'm going to help her when I git rested, and slick up a leetle."

"No, mammy, you must help me. Bloody Jim is around here somewhere, and
he's going to try to kill us all and burn the house. I've just sent
daddy for father, and you had better call Sorrel Top. I'll get my
pistols, and we'll secure the house."

"O, laws a mercy! how did you find it out, honey?"

"Wait 'till we are safe and I'll tell you."

"O, honey, did you tell daddy?"

"No."

"O, I'm awful glad, he'd be so flustrated you know."

"Yes, I know; now don't you get flustrated, and let it out quite yet,
you had better tell Sorrel Top, though."

Sorrel Top was duly informed, and they all set to work, and had made
what arrangements for their safety they could, when daddy returned.

"'Tween you and me, Honey, the Doctor can't come."

Little Wolf knew, by the expression on the old servant's face, why her
father could not come, and she went up close to him, and whispered,
"Is he very bad, daddy?"

"O yes, pet, 'tween you and me, he's dead drunk."

A shiver ran through the daughter at this intelligence, and she now
felt strong suspicions that Hank Glutter was implicated in her enemy's
plot, and the condition of her father indicated that the crisis was
near at hand.

"Well, daddy, cannot you get him some way?" she enquired, after a
moment's thought, "can't you get some of the men to help you?"

"There ain'