“You’d better hurry, young lady, or you’ll miss the last trip of the ferry-boat for the night,” cried a voice that seemed to come from beneath her feet. Thoroughly frightened, she hastened to retrace her steps. How she regained the river-bank she could never recollect; but when she stood panting at the water’s edge, and beheld through the gloaming the last of her father’s wagons ascending the opposite steep, it was past the twilight hour, and one by one the stars came out amid the circling blue of the bending sky. The roar of the waters was deafening. “Can I do anything for you, miss?” It was the same voice that had reached her from beneath the rock. She looked up and beheld a tall, sunburned young man, bowing and lifting a broad sombrero, who seemed as much embarrassed over the novel situation as herself. “I am glad to see the face of a white man, sir. I was frightened half out of my senses till I saw you.” “And are you not frightened now?” “Yes, a little bit. There are too many Indians stalking about to allow me to feel exactly comfortable. But I shall rely upon you for protection, sir.” “I suppose other trains will be along presently. They will encamp on this side of the river for the night, so you will have company.” “We are away ahead of the other trains, sir. We took a cut-off in the mountains.” “But you are afraid of the Indians?” “No, sir; not now, because—” She stopped as she looked into his kindly face and caught the amused gleam of a pair of piercing eyes. “Because—why?” “Because you talk and act like a gentleman, sir. I am not afraid of a gentleman.” She paused again, surprised at her own composure. Her eyes fell, and a deep flush overspread her features, as the thought flashed through her mind that she was utterly in the power of this stranger. “Can you ferry me across the river to-night, sir? My daddie will pay you well for your trouble.” “I could not attempt it. We never risk running the ferry after sundown. Guess we can make you comfortable on this side till morning.” “But there is no house where I can stop, and I haven’t any money. But that’s nothing new for girls. They never have money.” “Oh, yes, they do, often. In the old country, where I came from, girls often inherit money; and some of them own very large estates.” “But only by courtesy, sir.” He smiled at her frank simplicity. “You are sure of a safe night’s lodging and a speedy return to the custody of the man you call daddie. What ever possessed you to bestow upon him such a name?” “It was merely a notion, and is peculiar to myself in our family. But, sir, what ever shall I do? Daddie will be frightened out of his wits; and so will Mame and Marjorie and Hal!” and Jean began to weep convulsively.