omen,
pipes, tobacco, and knives for the men, while sugar was doled out to
the children. This performance took some time, and a triumphant light
gleamed in Pritchen's eye as he glanced at the small clock in the room.

"Now for the stuff," he cried.

At once, cups brimming with vile hootch were placed upon the rough bar.
Seizing one in his hand Pritchen held it before the old chief's eyes.

"Drink," he said. "Good."

As the Indian looked in silence at the mixture, without offering to
touch it, a stern voice rang out near the door. Some one was speaking
in sharp, quick words in the Indian tongue, which produced an immediate
effect. In an instant every eye was turned toward the speaker, when
they beheld standing there the sturdy form of Amos, the catechist.

He had returned from his hunting trip, and, finding the church and the
lodges deserted, suspected trouble. He made his way to the saloon,
feeling quite certain that there he would find an explanation of it
all. Neither was he mistaken. When he beheld the presents, and the
cup of whiskey held so temptingly before the face of his revered chief,
his wrath flared forth in righteous indignation. He lashed the Indians
with a few stinging words of rebuke, and, springing forward, with
blazing eyes confronted Pritchen.

The latter, seeing the catechist's anger, realized the purport of his
words. He saw that his scheme was likely to be frustrated simply
through this one man.

"You dog of an Injun," he cried. "You vile psalm singer, get out of
this and go to h--l," at the same time giving him a sharp slap in the
face.

Stung to the quick by the double insult of word and blow, in the
presence of his own people, and upon his ancestral domain, with a yell
Amos leaped for his insulter. Pritchen was prepared for this, and with
a well-directed blow sent the Indian reeling backwards. Recovering
himself, however, with great agility, the catechist again rushed
forward, dodged a second blow, and grappled with his opponent. But
Pritchen was too much for him, and with a powerful effort partly
disengaged himself from the native's grasp, and seized him by the
throat with a death-like grip. Amos endeavored to free himself, but
the more he writhed and struggled, the tighter pressed those terrible
fingers.

So quickly had all this taken place, that for a while the squatting
Indians stared in amazement. Then they realized the whole situation.
Their leader, their chosen g