she was at the top, Injun Pete was beside
her.

"She not hurt, Little missy," said the man, in his soft voice, and
turning his face so that Nan should not see it. "She just scared."

Margaret would not even cry. She was too plucky for that. When she got
her breath she croaked:

"Put me down, Nan Sherwood. I ain't no baby."

"But you're a very wet child," said Nan, laughing, yet on the verge of
tears herself. "You might have been drowned, you WOULD have been had it
not been for Mr. Indian Pete."

"Ugh!" whispered Margaret. "I seen him when I come up out o' that nasty
water. I wanted to go down again."

"Hush, Margaret!" cried Nan, sternly. "You must thank him."

The man was just then moving away. He shook himself like a dog coming
out of the stream, and paid no further attention to his own wet
condition.

"Wait, please!" Nan called after him.

"She all right now," said the Indian.

"But Margaret wants to thank you, don't you, Margaret?"

"Much obleeged," said the little girl, bashfully. "You air all right,
you air."

"That all right, that all right," said the man, hurriedly. "No need to
thank me."

"Yes, there is," said Nan, insistently. "Come here, please. Margaret
wants to kiss you for saving her life."

"Oh!" The word came out of Margaret's lips like an explosion. Nan stared
very sternly at her. "If you don't," she said in a low tone, "I'll tell
your father all about how you came to fall into the river."

Under this threat Margaret became amenable. She puckered up her lips
and stretched her arms out toward Indian Pete. The man stumbled back and
fell on his knees beside the two girls. Nan heard the hoarse sob in his
throat as he took little Margaret in his arms.

"Bless you! Bless you!" he murmured, receiving the kiss right upon his
scarred cheek. But Nan saw that Margaret's eyes were tightly closed as
she delivered the caress, per order!

The next moment the man with the scarred face had slipped away and
disappeared in the forest. They saw him no more.

However, just as soon as the catalog house could send it, Margaret
received a beautiful, pink-cheeked, and flaxen-haired Doll, not as fine
as Beulah, but beautiful enough to delight any reasonable child.

Nan had won back Margaret's confidence and affection.

Meanwhile the hot summer was fast passing. Nan heard from her chum, Bess
Harley, with commendable regularity; and no time did Bess write without
many references to Lakeview Hall.

Nan,