had stationed himself at the other side of the door, his
eyes glued to a narrow opening, both hands gripped on his gun. Eloise
and the colored girl, the one dry-eyed and alert, the other prone on
the floor crying, were where I had told them to go, into the darkest
corner. The boy I did not see, nor even remember; but Kirby stood on
the bench, which enabled him to peer out through the loop-hole in the
window shutter. What I noticed, however, was, that instead of keeping
watch without, his eyes were furtively wandering about the room, and,
when they suddenly encountered mine, were as instantly averted.

"Where was it you met those Indians, Kirby?" I questioned sternly.

"Down the valley."

"Last night?"

"This morning; they surprised us in camp."

"In camp! there were others with you, then. Who were they? the party
you had trailing us?"

"Yes," a decidedly sullen tone creeping into his voice. "Five of them;
one was a Winnebago."

"And Rale was along, I presume. What became of the others?"

He shook his head, but with no show of feeling.

"That's more than I know. Things were hot enough for me without
bothering about the rest. I never saw any of them again, except Rale.
He was killed in the fight. About an hour after that I shot the buck
who was guarding me, and got away on his horse."

"What Indians were they?"

"Sacs mostly; some Foxes, and maybe a Winnebago or two."

"Was Black Hawk with them?"

"I don't know--I never saw Black Hawk."

I felt firmly convinced that he was deliberately lying, and yet there
was nothing in his story which might not be true. No doubt it was
prejudice, personal hatred, and distrust which led me to come to this
conclusion. Well, true or not, I meant to see that he fought now.

"All right, but I advise you to keep your eyes outside," I said
sternly. "Don't be staring about the cabin any more."

"I was looking for something to eat."

"Is that so? Well, you better stand it for awhile without eating.
What is it, Eloise?"

"Please let me hand him some food."

I hesitated, conscious that I disliked even the thought of her serving
the fellow in any way, yet unable to resist the eager plea in her eyes.

"Very well, if you wish to; only keep down out of range; those Indians
may try for the loopholes. It is more than you deserve, Kirby."

He made no response, and I watched him closely as he endeavored to eat
what she proffered him, and felt convinced that it was h