"Oh, did I? Have I! I did it without thinking. It just seemed natural. But my name isn't Blossom--and it's--it's awful queer--I never saw this place before." "You have," contradicted Lennon. "It has been a long, long dream, little Blossom. You are beginning to remember it now." "O-oh--like a dream---- It does seem as if everything--and you--you're Brother Jack, who was going to marry me. But how silly--when I'm only ten years old! Of course it's just all a dream." Lennon caught at the point---- "Yes, yes, that's a dream, only a dream about our marrying. You've been dreaming for years, and now you're much older than ten--much older. But that other is only a fancy--a mistake. It's Mena I'm to marry, and you're to be our dear little sister. Remember, I'm to be your brother--your Brother Jack." "I'll remember," promised Elsie. "You're good, like her. You buried papa and mamma and you killed that bad Indian." A cry from Carmena sent Lennon bounding out into the anteroom, with his rifle ready to fire. The girl had crouched low behind the massive body of Slade. She pointed to the far corner of the room and shrilled warningly: "Look out, Jack! Cochise!--there in the window!" Lennon dashed straight at the dark opening where he had seen the gray face of Farley on his first coming to the cliff house. He thrust in the muzzle of his rifle and then his head. Though shadowed, the inner room was light enough for him to see that it was empty. He went back to Carmena. "No one there," he said. "Just your fancy, dear. You're nervous--overwrought. But no wonder. The sooner we're down and away from here, the better." "Wait. First take this," replied Carmena. She held up a thick-padded leather belt. "Slade's," she explained. "I guessed he might be carrying it. It's his money-belt, stuffed with big bills. He lied about the partnership bank-account. Take it, Jack--for Elsie and me. It's ours by rights. He cheated us of our heritage. We have to leave Dad's ranch." The belt was already fast about Lennon's waist. Elsie appeared, dragging the saddlebags and the girth. Lennon brought the wide cinch to wrap around Carmena's waist. The double fold lashed fast with the straps made a broad stiff corsage support for her wrenched back. In quick succession, Lennon then lowered, over the sacks of corn in the hoist opening, first Elsie, then the outfit, and lastly Carmena. She asked to see her father, but Lennon dissuaded her. He thought best that her last impression of Slade's victim should be the broken man's redeeming flare of vengeful love and fatherhood.