position with her arms outstretched
toward Elsie. Her face was white from pain, and she was swaying--but she
was sitting upright. Realization of what that meant burst upon Lennon
like a flood of golden sunshine.

He dropped on his knees to fling a supporting arm about the girl's
shoulders.

"Dearest, it's not true--not true that you---- Your back! You're able to
rise!"

Carmena lowered her gaze from her bewildered sister.

"What, I----" she murmured. "Why, so I am! There was a snap, and then,
oh, such a pain! It must be the bone had only slipped. That twist
snapped it back into place."

"But the pain, dear?"

"It's getting better. It's good pain. It proves I'm alive again--all
alive. Raise me up, Jack. I want to see if I can stand."

He lifted her with utmost gentleness. Her teeth clenched upon her lip.
But, once she was upright, the pain again eased. She was delighted to
find that she could stand with no more than half support from him.

"Yes--all alive," she repeated and she turned to Elsie. "With a brace
I'll be able to rise. Blossom, you can bind on----"

"I'm not Blossom. I'm--I'm Elsie Lane," faltered the younger girl. "And
you're not my mamma, no more than he's my papa."

Lennon and Carmena stared at each other questioningly. The girl seemed
rational, yet clearly she recognized neither of them. Carmena was first
to catch an inkling of the truth.

"No, dear," she soothed. "Of course we're not your papa and mamma. Of
course you're Elsie Lane. But we want to help you. We are your friends,
dear. What has happened? Tell us."

The girl stared from them to her surroundings, more than ever
bewildered. But the hideous gape of Cochise's mouth and his upturned
glassy eyes drew from her a whimpering cry. She shrank around to hide
behind Lennon and clutch his arm.

"Oh! That man--that bad Indian--he came after papa found old Sim's mine,
and mamma fed him, and--and then he choked her, and I ran to get papa,
and papa was lying down at the bottom, with an awful red hole in his
head--and I ran back to mamma--and she was dead. The bad Indian was
chasing our ponies. I was 'fraid he'd kill me, too, and I ran and ran
and ran, right up past the middle tower of the giant's castle and down
the other side, and I got awful thirsty. Then--then I went to sleep--and
when I woke up the roof was falling on me and it was night, and when I
got out here, you weren't my papa and mamma, but there was that bad
Indian."

Lennon ne