"They had been gone some two weeks when a train came in from the East, and among them was Mrs. Marsh, the nurse. The two trains had met just beyond the range, and Mrs. Marsh had found among the emigrants some of her friends and towns-people. The attraction was strong enough to cause her to turn about, and I may as well dispose of her at once by saying that she shortly after married one of her new-found friends. "She told me that Pearson had joined a train which crossed their trail the morning after the meeting of the first two parties, and before they had broken camp. This train was going through by the shortest route, as fast as possible; and Pearson had found among the women one who would take charge of little Lea. She brought me a letter from him." "Did you preserve the letter?" interrupted the Chief. "I did; it has never been out of my possession, for it was the last I ever heard of Pearson or my little Lea, until--" He paused and glanced toward the Englishman. "Until you met Mr. Parks?" supplemented the Chief. "Yes." "I should like to see that letter," said the Chief. The Australian took from his breast an ample packet, and from its contents extracted a worn and faded paper. As he handed it to the Chief there was a touch of pathos in his voice. "It is more than twenty years old," he said. The writing was in a delicate, scholarly hand, much faded, yet legible. DEAR AINSWORTH I suppose Mrs. Marsh has made you acquainted with her reasons for changing her plans. It remains for me to inform you of mine. Our train, as you know, is not precisely select, and as we advance towards "God's Country" the roystering ones become a little too reckless for my quiet taste. The train from the North is led by one Walter Parks, an Englishman, of whom I know a little, and that little all in his favor. The others are quiet, sturdy fellows, of the sort I like. The woman who will care for little Lea is a Mrs. Krutzer; a very good woman she seems. She is going East with her husband, who has the rheumatism and, so they tell me, a decided objection to hard labor. She has a little boy, some six years older than Lea, and she seems glad to earn something by watching over our pet. We are almost out of the "Danger Country." There is little to dread between this and the Marais des Cygnes, and once we have crossed that, there will be nothing to fear from the Indians. Still, to make little Lea's safety doubly sure, I shall at once tell Mrs. Krutzer her history, and give her instructions how to find Lea's relatives should some calamity overtake me before the journey ends.