they had not broken through. I set my treasure gently
down on her little feet. Her bonnet was gone, her wealth of golden
hair hung disheveled about her pale face.

"Are we safe?" she murmured.

"Yes, thank Heaven, your precious life is saved!"

"Oh! where is my brother?"

"Here!" said a cold voice behind us, and young Knickerbocker coolly
took his sister on his own arm. "What in the name of folly did you
drag her off in that style for? A pretty-looking girl you are, Flora,
I must say!"

"But the fire!" I gasped.

"Was all out in less than a minute. A lamp exploded, but fortunately
set fire to nothing else. I never saw anything more utterly ridiculous
than you dragging my sister off through that crowd, and me sitting
still and laughing at you. I don't know whether to look on you as a
hero or a fool, Mr. Flutter."

"Look on me as a blunderer," I said meekly.

But the revulsion of feeling was too great; I felt myself turning sick
and faint, and when I knew anything again I was home in bed. And now I
owe Miss Flora a new bonnet as well as a little dog.

CHAPTER XII.

A LEAP FOR LIFE.

It is impossible to make an ordinary person understand the chaos of
mingled feelings with which I heard, two days after the circus
performance in which I had so large a share, that Blue-Eyes and
Company had departed for a tour of the watering-places--feelings of
anguish and relief mixed in about equal proportions. I madly loved
her, but I had known from the first that my love was hopeless, and the
thought of meeting her, after having made myself so ridiculous, was
torture. Therefore I felt relief that I was no longer in danger of
encountering the mocking laughter of those blue eyes, but I lost my
appetite. I moped, pined, grew pale, freckled, and listless.

"What's the use of wasting harvest apples making dumplings, when you
don't eat none, John?" asked my aunt, one day at dinner, after the
hands had left the table.

"Aunt," replied I, solemnly, "don't mock me with apple dumplings; they
may be light, but my heart is heavy."

"La, John, try a little east on your heart," said she, laughing--by
"east" she meant yeast, I suppose.

"No, aunt, not 'east,' but west. My mind is made up. I'm going out to
Colorado to fight the Indians."

She let the two-tined steel fork drop out of her hand.

"What will your ma say to that?" she gasped.

"I tell you I am going," was my firm reply, and I went.

Yes, I had long sighed to