n messenger was here from the fort
and was riding back soon. If the lady cared she could get a horse and go
under his escort. She opened her eyes in wonder when Hazel asked if
there was to be a woman in the party, and whether she could not leave
her work for a little while and ride over with them if she would pay her
well for the service.

"Oh, you needn't bring none o' them fine lady airs out here!" she
declared rudely. "We-all ain't got time fer no sech foolery. You needn't
be afraid to go back with Joe. He takes care of the women at the fort.
He'll look after you fine. You'll mebbe kin hire a horse to ride, an'
strop yer baggage on. Yer trunk ye kin leave here."

Hazel, half frightened at the position she had allowed herself to be
placed in, considered the woman's words, and when she had looked upon
the Indian's stolid countenance decided to accept his escort. He was an
old man with furrowed face and sad eyes that looked as if they could
tell great secrets, but there was that in his face that made her trust
him, she knew not why.

An hour later, her most necessary baggage strapped to the back of the
saddle on a wicked-looking little pony, Hazel, with a sense of deep
excitement, mounted and rode away behind the solemn, silent Indian. She
was going to the fort to ask shelter, until her errand was accomplished,
of the only women in that region who would be likely to take her in. She
had a feeling that the thing she was doing was a most wild and
unconventional proceeding and would come under the grave condemnation of
her aunt, and all her New York friends. She was most thankful that they
were far away and could not interfere, for somehow she felt that she
must do it anyway. She must put that letter, with her own hands, into
the possession of its owner.

It was a most glorious morning. The earth and the heavens seemed newly
made for the day. Hazel felt a gladness in her soul that would not down,
even when she thought of poor Amelia Ellen crouched in her corner of the
sleeper, miserable at her desertion, yet determined to go. She thought
of the dear mother, and wondered if 'twere given to her to know now how
she was trying to fulfill her last wish. It was pleasant to think she
knew and was glad, and Hazel felt as though her presence were near and
protecting her.

The silent Indian made few remarks. He rode ahead always with a grave,
thoughtful expression, like a student whose thoughts are not to be
disturbed. He nodd