tefully.

Jean shook her head nervously, her brown eyes fastened on the
tight-closed door, against which Aunt Ellen stood like a body-guard.
"No, please don't try to tell us anything now," Jean begged. "I am sure
you are not strong enough. And Jack, she is the oldest of us, she would
like you to wait until she comes back this afternoon."

The ranch house was built on one floor. A long hall led straight through
the centre of it. There were four bedrooms beside the living-room and
Aunt Ellen's room, which opened off the kitchen. Aunt Ellen and her
husband, Zack, slept on the place and the old man helped Frieda and Jean
with their violet beds. To-day he had ridden over to the nearest village
to see about the building of the new greenhouses.

A tramp of heavy feet echoed out in the passageway. Jean kept on
talking, as though she wished to drown the sound. The Indian girl did
not seem to be disturbed. She was too happy and too weak to care much
what was going on outside her room.

"Don't you think I might tell you my name at least?" she begged. "It is
Olilie, an Indian name. I don't know just what it means. I--"

There were no locks on the doors inside the big hospitable ranch house.
What need was there of locking people either out or in, in this great
open western land?

Yet Aunt Ellen kept her hand on the doorknob. "You are not to come in
here," she insisted fiercely. "I told you to leave our ranch."

The door burst rudely open. The squat ugly figure of Laska appeared
inside the room, followed by a young Indian boy, who looked sheepish and
ashamed.

"Ugh," grunted the old squaw. "Did you think we no find you? Come, git
up. You go with me." She pushed aside Frieda and Jean, who were trying
to guard the sick girl.

Olilie's face was so white that no one could have thought her an Indian.
She could not speak, she only clutched at the arms of her chair as
though nothing could part her from it.

Jean stamped her foot angrily. "Go out of this house at once," she
ordered angrily. "How dare you thrust your way in here? Your daughter is
too ill for you to move her. Besides, we are going to keep her here
until we find out whether you were cruel to her and why she won't live
with you."

"No, no, I shall not live with her again," Olilie burst out
passionately. "I do not mind the work or the blows, but I will not be a
squaw woman. I will not light the pipe, clean the gun, hew the wood and
fetch the water for her son. At th