o Injun--it's a child!"

In another moment he had reined up beside Clarence and leaned over him,
bearded, handsome, powerful and protecting.

"Hallo! What's all this? What are you doing here?"

"Lost from Mr. Silsbee's train," said Clarence, pointing to the darkened
west.

"Lost?--how long?"

"About three hours. I thought they'd come back for us," said Clarence
apologetically to this big, kindly man.

"And you kalkilated to wait here for 'em?"

"Yes, yes--I did--till I saw you."

"Then why in thunder didn't you light out straight for us, instead of
hanging round here and drawing us out?"

The boy hung his head. He knew his reasons were unchanged, but all at
once they seemed very foolish and unmanly to speak out.

"Only that we were on the keen jump for Injins," continued the stranger,
"we wouldn't have seen you at all, and might hev shot you when we did.
What possessed you to stay here?"

The boy was still silent. "Kla'uns," said a faint, sleepy voice from the
mesquite, "take me." The rifle-shot had awakened Susy.

The stranger turned quickly towards the sound. Clarence started and
recalled himself. "There," he said bitterly, "you've done it now, you've
wakened her! THAT'S why I stayed. I couldn't carry her over there to
you. I couldn't let her walk, for she'd be frightened. I wouldn't wake
her up, for she'd be frightened, and I mightn't find her again. There!"
He had made up his mind to be abused, but he was reckless now that she
was safe.

The men glanced at each other. "Then," said the spokesman quietly, "you
didn't strike out for us on account of your sister?"

"She ain't my sister," said Clarence quickly. "She's a little girl.
She's Mrs. Silsbee's little girl. We were in the wagon and got down.
It's my fault. I helped her down."

The three men reined their horses closely round him, leaning forward
from their saddles, with their hands on their knees and their heads on
one side. "Then," said the spokesman gravely, "you just reckoned to stay
here, old man, and take your chances with her rather than run the risk
of frightening or leaving her--though it was your one chance of life!"

"Yes," said the boy, scornful of this feeble, grown-up repetition.

"Come here."

The boy came doggedly forward. The man pushed back the well-worn straw
hat from Clarence's forehead and looked into his lowering face. With his
hand still on the boy's head he turned him round to the others, and said
quietly,--

"Suthi