ail like a released arrow. Never in her life had she run so
fast. She fell into her room panting and trembling, and offered up a
little prayer of thankfulness for the security of four walls and a
locked door.

Next morning she was unable to get up in time to see Sam pass. She
appeared at the dinner table pale and shaky, and pleaded a headache in
explanation. During the meal she led the conversation by a round-about
course to the subject of Indians.

"Do they ever go crazy?" she asked Gilbert Beattie, with an off-hand
air.

"Yes, indeed," he answered. "It's one of the commonest troubles we
have to deal with. They're fanatics by nature, anyway, and it doesn't
take much to turn the scale. _Weh-ti-go_ is their word for insanity.
Among the people around the lake there is an extraordinary
superstition, which the priests have not been able to eradicate in two
hundred years. The Indians say of an insane man that his brain is
frozen. And they believe in their hearts that the only way to melt it
is by drinking human blood--a woman's or a child's by preference. That
is the real explanation of many an obscure tragedy up here."

Miss Mackall shuddered and ate no more.

Late that afternoon she managed to drag herself down to the road. She
waited for Sam at the entrance to a patch of woods a little way toward
the French outfit.

"What's the matter?" he exclaimed at the sight of her.

"Ah, don't look at me!" she said unhappily. "I've had an awful night.
Sick headache. I just wanted to tell you not to come to-night."

"All right," said Sam. "To-morrow night?"

She shook her head. "I--I don't think I'll come any more. I don't
think it's right."

"Just as you say," said Sam. "If you feel all right to-morrow
afternoon, you might get a horse and ride around the bay."

"I--I'm afraid to ride alone," she faltered.

"Well," said Sam, ever quick to take offence, "if you don't want to
see me again, of course----"

"I do! I do!" she cried. "I've got to have a talk with you. I don't
know what to do!"

"Very well," he said stoutly. "I'll come up to the house to-morrow
night. I guess there's no reason why I shouldn't."

"Yes, that is best," she agreed. "Drive on now."

Sam clucked to his team, and they started briskly down the trail.
"Lord, she looks about seventy!" he was thinking. Miss Mackall stood
watching until they rounded the first bend. When she turned around,
there stood Bela beside a big tree, a few feet to the side of