“The infernal villain! He was with that young chief? I didn’t see him.” “But he captured me--slipped on me in the house, after father was killed, and----” “Your father dead?” He was shocked at the sad news. “Yes--dead--dead!” She sobbed again. “He was killed by the Blackfeet, and----” She choked and could not go on. “Tell me about it,” he urged. She told him, brokenly, and in as few words as she could. He was silent a while, his eyes fixed on the trail, and his hearing strained backward in anticipation of pursuit. “I knew the Blackfeet were rising, and I heard you had been in town,” he said. “So I thought I’d ride out, and have a talk with you and your father; for I thought it wasn’t any longer safe for you to stay out in that lonely place. “That’s how I happened to meet you on the trail. I saw the Indian coming, driving the two horses; but, truly, I didn’t know then one of the persons riding was you. “I didn’t know what to expect of the Indian; so I hid my horse in the grove, and went into concealment myself at the bend in the trail; for I didn’t know but I might be needed, seeing that the riders of the horses seemed to be women. “When I saw that you were one of them, I was too astonished for anything. And then the Indian went up the hill; and----Well, you know the rest.” “Oh, you are so brave!” she said. “Not I. You see, anybody would have done that; and when I saw that it was you, I’d have died there fighting that rascal to get you away from him.” “If he gets those horses, he’ll follow us,” she said, glancing back along the trail. “He’ll follow, anyway, I think, horses or no horses; and some of those Indians can run like antelopes. The trouble is, he’s likely to get help.” “He is a good runner.” “He didn’t insult nor abuse you?” “No; but I was dreadfully afraid of him. The girl was jealous of me.” “Jealous?” “The young chief is her lover, I think; and she fancied he was taking me to his wigwam.” He laughed then. “It was no laughing matter,” she said. “No, of course not; very far from it. But it’s amusing to think she could be jealous of you.” He drew rein suddenly. “Hello! There are Indians down below. Blackfeet, too, and they’re coming this way; but I don’t think they’ve seen us. We’ve got to leave the trail and get into the hills here.” He looked for rocky ground, and drew the horse out upon it. The knowledge that another peril confronted her served to make Lena Forest more courageous. She released herself from her lover’s arms, and sat upright, shifting to a position behind him, where she would less hamper his movements. He chose rocky ground for the horse, and went on as fast as he could. “We’ll be all right until these Blackfeet meet that young chief. And then they’ll learn about us, and, of course, will follow us at once.” “They’re mounted, too!” “Yes, on Indian ponies; and those ponies are better able to climb about these rocky hills than this big horse is. We must get as big a start of them as we can.”