"She'll never come back. For a time I'd a mind to drag her away, but she was so cold to me, so Injun-like in her way of lettin' me know it wouldn't do no good, that I give it up. You see she was only a child when captured. Women caught when much older'n her have gone for to choose a wigwam to a cabin." "Do you wish I had shot him?" "No. If it could happen in a open fight--that's different. It wouldn't do any good to hurt her by killin' him. But I wish he was dead!" We stopped and ate and rode several miles before either of us spoke again. Then I said: "There's a girl ahead, about your age." He was disturbed to hear it and I feared he would wish to leave me. "I don't want her captured by Indians," I added. "God forbid it!" he hoarsely cried. Having prepared him for seeing Patricia, I shifted his line of thought by asking, "What do you think of John Ward?" "Injun." I said nothing and after a few minutes he went on: "Took by Injuns when a little boy, just like Tavenor Ross and George Collet was took. I've heard traders tell about the three of 'em. When they're took so young they grow up just as much Injuns as if they was born red. Ward's that way. Must be. Look at the sister I lost!" "But Ward comes back to settlements. He even crosses the mountains. He says he escaped." "He wouldn't be travelin' round these parts if he was a' 'scaped prisoner. As for crossin' the mountains he might 'a' gone for to see what he could see. Cornstalk has spies all up an' down the frontier. I 'low them two we met yesterday was bent on spyin'. God! That's a' awful thought! But I ain't got no sister. It was a red woman we seen. She 'n' her man was spyin'. If not that why should they be makin' east into the mountains? I 'low he was to stay hid while 'nother 'scaped prisoner rode down into some settlement." From that speech on I do not remember that he spoke of his sister as being any kin of his. When he must mention her he usually styled her, "That woman who's turned red." To get his thoughts away from her I rattled on about my trip to Richfield and told of my experiences in returning over the mountains. After I had narrated Hughes' quick action in saving me from an assassin's bullet Cousin jerked up his head and said: "Moccasin, one you give to that there young woman we're now followin'?" I nodded, and he continued: "I 'low it was John Ward who tried to pot you. He stole the moccasin and sneaked back an' laid the trap. Prob'ly laid it for whoever come along without knowin' who would walk into it. You was mighty lucky to have Hughes there." I had never connected Ward with that attempt on my life. "The Dales believe Ward to be what he pretends--an escaped prisoner," I said. "Course they do," sighed the boy. "The country's full of fools. After he's led 'em to the stake an' they begin to roast they'll wake up an' reckon that there's something wrong with his white blood."