She slowly shook her head, tempted not the least by my pleas. "Even the Indians know me better than that. And to think we trusted them! Oh, Basdel, it doesn't seem possible! You were right. Father was wrong. God help him! And now they have taken you!" "All will be well yet," I faltered. "Yes, all will be well," she gently said. "All will be well, when we are dead and at peace." "Patsy! Patsy!" I begged. "Don't give up hope. Don't lose your courage! Why, there's a dozen chances for us to fool these devils." She patted my tied hands, and murmured: "You're a good boy, Basdel. You were patient when I abused you. You told me the truth. I am out of place out here. If I were a pioneer woman I could help you plan to escape, but I am only a silly fool from over the mountains. I am absolutely helpless. But you've been good to me, Basdel. You followed me into that horrible valley. You were caught because you tried to help us. Oh, the shame of it! The hideous cruelty of it! That you were caught--Basdel, I pray my last thought will be about your goodness to me. Just that." She was at the limit of her endurance and I backed away and Cousin's sister glided forward. I flogged my mind for a scheme of escape which would include her; her father, if possible. But it was as she had said; she was no pioneer woman, resourceful and daring. The Shawnees saw her helplessness, else they never would have allowed her the freedom of the camp and surrounding woods. They knew she would never leave her father, and that she lacked the border woman's daring initiative so necessary in any attempt to free him. As I was casting about for some plan to save her Black Hoof glided to my side and took me by the arm and led me toward the tree where Dale was lying. This closer inspection of the trader revealed how fearfully he had suffered in his mind. The flesh of his strong face hung in folds as if his skin had suddenly become many sizes too large for him. His eyes had retreated deeper into the sockets, and his thick lips, once so firm and domineering, were loose and flabby. Black Hoof stirred him contemptuously with his foot. Dale dragged himself to a sitting posture and began shivering as if suffering from ague. "Oh, my God, Morris!" he groaned. "The Pack-Horse-Man can save his life," sententiously began Black Hoof. "My daughter?" gasped Dale, rising on his knees. "He shall save his daughter's life," added the chief. Dale moistened his lips and tried to recover some of his old spirit. "Never mind, Morris. Give me a little time. I'll get us all out of this fix. They're angry now. When they've had time to think they'll be reasonable. If they kill me, they'll kill their trade with the whites." It was the first time I ever heard him pronounce the word without stressing it. Black Hoof glowered at the miserable man ferociously and said: