Mr. Peabody, you must attend to your own
business."

Fletcher was at the head of the train, walking beside the first wagon.
Hearing hurried steps, he turned, and saw Mr. Lawrence Peabody, panting
for breath.

"Have you got over your headache, Mr. Peabody?" he asked, with a quiet
smile.

"Yes, Mr. Fletcher, it's all gone."

"I am glad to hear it."

"It would have kept me awake to-night, as you remarked," said Peabody.
"Now, I am really afraid that I shall fall asleep."

"That would be bad for you."

"Why so?"

"You remember those two poor fellows whom we found scalped the other
day?"

"I shall never forget them," said Lawrence Peabody, with a shudder.

"Better think of them to-night. If you go to sleep on watch, those very
Indians may serve you in the same way."

"Oh, good gracious!" ejaculated Peabody, turning pale.

"They or some of their tribe are, no doubt, near at hand."

"Don't you think you could excuse me, Mr. Fletcher?" stammered Peabody,
panic-stricken.

"No!" thundered Fletcher, so sternly that the unhappy Bostonian shrank
back in dismay.

For the credit of Boston, it may be said that John Miles--a
broad-shouldered young giant, who did not know what fear was--more
honorably represented the same city.

CHAPTER XXV.

A NIGHT PANIC.

Lawrence Peabody's feelings when night approached were not unlike those
of a prisoner under sentence of death. He was timid, nervous, and gifted
with a lively imagination. His fears were heightened by the sad
spectacle that he had recently witnessed. His depression was apparent to
all; but I regret to say that it inspired more amusement than sympathy.
Men winked at each other as they saw him pass; and, with the exception
of Tom and his Scotch friend, probably nobody pitied the poor fellow.

"He's a poor creature, Tom," said Donald Ferguson; "but I pity him. We
wouldn't mind watching to-night; but I doubt it's a terrible thing to
him."

"I would volunteer in his place, but Mr. Fletcher won't agree to it,"
said Tom.

"He is right. The young man must take his turn. He won't dread it so
much a second time."

"What would the poor fellow do if he should see an Indian?"

"Faint, likely; but that is not probable."

"Mr. Fletcher thinks there are some not far off."

"They don't attack in the night, so I hear."

"That seems strange to me. I should think the night would be most
favorable for them."

"It's their way. Perhaps they have some supersti