father and the servants were asleep Rosa's light burned
while she bent over her desk, writing. Page after page she covered with
careful copies of Mrs. Brownleigh's letter written to herself almost
three years before. Finally she wrote out the alphabet, bit by bit as
she picked it from the words, learning just how each letter was
habitually formed, the small letters and the capitals, with the
peculiarities of connection and ending. At last, when she lay down to
rest, she felt herself capable of writing a pretty fair letter in Mrs.
Brownleigh's handwriting. The next thing was to make her plan and
compose her letter. She lay staring into the darkness and trying to
think just what she could do.

In the first place, she settled it that Margaret must be gotten to Walpi
at least. It would not do to send her to Ganado, where the mission
station was, for that was a comparatively short journey, and she could
easily go in a day. When the fraud was discovered, as of course it would
be when Mrs. Brownleigh heard of it, Margaret would perhaps return to
find out who had done it. No, she must be sent all the way to Walpi if
possible. That would take at least two nights and the most of two days
to get there. Forsythe had said his stay was to be short. By the time
Margaret got back from Walpi Forsythe would be gone.

But how manage to get her to Walpi without her suspicions being aroused?
She might word the note so that Margaret would be told to come half-way,
expecting to meet the missionaries, say at Keams. There was a trail
straight up from Ashland to Keams, cutting off quite a distance and
leaving Ganado off at the right. Keams was nearly forty miles west of
Ganado. That would do nicely. Then if she could manage to have another
note left at Keams, saying they could not wait and had gone on, Margaret
would suspect nothing and go all the way to Walpi. That would be fine
and would give the school-teacher an interesting experience which
wouldn't hurt her in the least. Rosa thought it might be rather
interesting than otherwise. She had no compunctions whatever about how
Margaret might feel when she arrived in that strange Indian town and
found no friends awaiting her. Her only worry was where she was to find
a suitable escort, for she felt assured that Margaret would not start
out alone with one man servant on an expedition that would keep her out
overnight. And where in all that region could she find a woman whom she
could trust to send