What had become of Naki?

At daylight he reached the hilltop, but no sound of life came from the
silent tent.

Naki called to the Indian squaw. There was no answer. "I come to bring
you news of Eunice!" he shouted. Still no answer.

He stalked inside the wigwam. The tent was deserted. The Indian woman had
disappeared.

Naki was puzzled. He searched the woods near the tent.

Half way down the hill Naki came across a small wooden box, half covered
with leaves. Naki opened it. In it he found half a dozen pieces of old
jewelry, and an old fashioned daguerreotype of an Indian girl holding a
baby in her arms.

Naki had been born and brought up in the woods. He kept his eyes turned
to the ground, thinking to trace the footprints of Mother Eunice down the
hill. On her departure she had, as she thought, buried her box of
treasures. Then she had gone--where?

Naki discovered, midway on the hill, two pairs of footprints, which
seemed to indicate that two persons had lately started up the hill. But
they must have given up and gone down again.

Naki made up his mind to go at once to Stockbridge. Even though he could
not trace the squaw, the testimony of the man who had seen Eunice's
mother die, the box of jewelry Naki had found--these proofs of Eunice's
identity would convince even Mr. Winthrop Latham.

Miss Stuart and Mr. Latham were at luncheon when Ceally entered the room.
Miss Sallie knew, at once, something had happened.

"What is it, Ceally?" she asked.

"They have come!" said Ceally.

"Who?" Mr. Latham demanded.

"Naki, the Indian woman, and another man," was Ceally's reply. There was
a short pause, and then the two entered.

Naki spoke first. He explained that he had found the Indian woman at
Stockbridge when he had given her up for lost. Then she told in her own
way that she had made up her mind to return to Stockbridge and ask help
from the man who, alone, knew the story of her grandchild's parentage.
The old squaw had completely broken down. She said that she knew that it
was best for Eunice to be allowed to come into her inheritance. She said
she remembered that Barbara had told her of Mrs. Latham and Reginald's
wish to keep Eunice concealed. She finished by telling that midway on the
hill, in the early dawn, she had met Reginald Latham and his mother
climbing up to her tent. The old squaw, who was wise, had told Mrs.
Latham that there was one man in Stockbridge who could prove who Eunice
was and that s