as no need of the white man's
doctor. I shall tend my child. Begone, all of you!"

Reginald Latham moved back a few paces; but Bab, Grace and Ruth did not
stir.

"Naki," Ruth gave her order quietly, "go down the hill at once and see
that a doctor comes up to look at this child's arm. An Indian's treatment
for a bullet wound may be a good one. I do not know. But I do know I am
not willing that this child should not see a doctor. Bab and I would feel
responsible all our lives if anything serious resulted from this
accident. Go immediately, Naki," Ruth ended. She was her father's
daughter. Though she seldom asserted her authority, there were times when
she insisted on obedience.

"We want no doctor here," the Indian woman repeated, rocking back and
forth. "No good comes to the Indian from his white neighbors. Therefore,
have I tried to keep my child away from them."

But Eunice's voice was heard calling inside the tent.

"Let the ladies come in, grandmother. I wish to have a talk with them."

Sullenly the old woman moved aside and let the girls and Reginald Latham
enter the wigwam.

"Little brown one," Eunice cried, smiling at Bab, "you would be almost as
brown as I am, if you lived always in the woods. Do not be so sorry that
you hurt my arm. It was my fault, not yours. I should not have been in
hiding. I disobeyed the commands of my grandmother. See, I am better. She
will not let a white doctor look at me, perhaps, because my skin is too
fair for an Indian."

"Mr. Latham," Bab turned to Reginald, who had not spoken. He was looking
curiously at the furnishings of the wigwam, at the Indian squaw and at
Eunice. He did not hear Bab.

"Mr. Latham!" Bab called more distinctly, "can't you persuade----"

A curious guttural noise interrupted her. The old Indian woman's eyes
were blazing. She had seized a pine stick in her hand and held it over
Reginald Latham's head. "Out of my wigwam! Shall your name forever sound
in my ears? Am I not safe in my own house? Out with you!"

Reginald Latham had not waited before the old woman's wrath. He was
already several yards down the hill.

The girls were thunderstruck. Why had the name of Latham fired this old
squaw to such a burst of fury?

"Come on, Ruth," said Grace, finally. "Let us go back home. We shall do
no good by staying here. I suppose we can find our way home! The old
Indian woman seems dreadfully upset, and our staying can only make
matters worse. Naki will bring