here."

"Not at all!" vowed Lennon. "Even though your back---- You'll not die."

"I can't live--like this, dear. And there's Blossom. You must get her
away before Slade's men---- But first find me my little pistol. I gave
it to Blossom--to use if there was no other way left. Leave it with me,
and hurry off with her while there's time. Hurry!"

Lennon's clasp tightened.

"No. I'll never leave you--never while----"

From the inner rooms of the cliff house came a burst of piercing
childish shrieks. Carmena twisted about in Lennon's suddenly loosened
embrace. There was a sound like the snap of a dry twig. Carmena screamed
and fell over sideways in a deathlike faint.

CHAPTER XXIII

OUT OF THE PAST

As Lennon knelt beside the swooning girl the shrieks rang nearer. Elsie
came flying through the rear opening, in wild fright. Her dress was torn
and her yellow hair full of dust and wooden bits. Lennon sprang up,
certain that the Apache who had been wounded in the kiva was pursuing
her.

In her flurry she appeared to heed nothing until almost upon the body of
Cochise. But one glance at the ghostly whites of the Apache's upturned
eyes sent her shrinking backward, stricken to horrified silence. Her
wild stare fixed first upon Carmena and then shifted to Lennon. With a
shriek, she flung herself upon him, clutching him about the body in
frantic terror.

"Oh! oh! Papa! Papa! Papa!" she screamed, in a childish treble. "Bad
Indian! He's hurting mamma! He's choking mamma!"

Lennon pressed her face hard against his breast to stifle her shrieks.

"Be still," he shouted. "Stop that noise. You're safe. Be still. Hear
me? You're safe."

Checked by the sternness of his voice the distracted girl hushed her
hysterical cries. When he repeated that she was safe, she at last seemed
to grasp the fact. Yet she continued to cling fast to him.

"Tell me quick," he demanded. "Is an Indian following you?"

"No-no-no!" she babbled. "It's mamma--he's choking her! He----"

The tremulous words broke off in a gasp of astonishment. The wild blue
eyes stared up at Lennon in bewildered lack of recognition.

"Why--why, you're not my papa!" she cried.

"Of course not, Blossom. I'm Jack--Brother Jack. Don't you know me?"

The girl shrank back.

"You're not my brother. Let me go. I haven't any brother. I never saw
you before."

"Oh, Blossom!" came a cry beside them.

Lennon's glance darted aslant.

Carmena had risen to a sitting