what it was about."

"Still, you know it would be safe with Mr. Grant."

"Yes," said Hetty. "Larry never did anything mean in his life. But you
don't understand, Flo. He didn't know it was there, and it might have
dropped out on the prairie, while, even if he found it, how is he going to
get it back to me? The boys would fire on him if he came here."

Flora Schuyler looked frightened. "You will have to tell your father,
Hetty."

Hetty trembled a little. "It is going to be the hardest thing I ever did.
He is just dreadful in his quietness when he is angry--and I would have to
tell him I had been meeting Larry and sending him dollars. You know what
he would fancy."

It was evident that Hetty was very much afraid of her father, and as clear
to Miss Schuyler that the latter would have some cause for unpleasant
suspicions. Then, the girl turned to her companion appealingly.

"Flo," she said, "tell me what to do. The thing frightens me."

Miss Schuyler slipped an arm about her. "Wait," she said. "Your father
will not be here until noon to-morrow, and that letter is in the hands of
a very honest man. I think you can trust him to get it back to you."

"But he couldn't send anybody without giving me away, and he knows it
might cost him his liberty to come here," said Hetty.

"I scarcely fancy that would stop him."

Hetty turned, and looked at her friend curiously. "Flo, I wonder how it
would have suited if Larry had been fond of you."

Miss Schuyler did not wince; but the smile that was on her lips was absent
from her eyes. "You once told me I should have him. Are you quite sure you
would like to hand him over now?"

Hetty did not answer the question; instead, she blushed furiously. "We are
talking nonsense--and I don't know how I can face my father to-morrow,"
she said.

It was at least an hour later, and the cow-boy below had ceased his
pacing, when Hetty, who felt no inclination for sleep, fancied she heard a
tapping at the window. She sprang suddenly upright, and saw apprehension
in Miss Schuyler's face. The cow-boys were some distance away, and a
little verandah ran round that side of the house just below the window.
Flora Schuyler had sufficient courage; but it was not of the kind which
appears to advantage in the face of bodily peril, and the colour faded in
her cheeks. It was quite certain now that somebody was tapping at or
trying to open the window.

"Shake yourself together, Flo," said Hetty, in a hoar