"I hate to run away, but being a peace-loving person I run away whenever a fight is suggested to me." "We know it," observed Emma. "Thanks! Which way do we go?" questioned Hippy. "Straight ahead and take the first right-hand turn about a mile from the village to reach Joe Shafto's place, the storekeeper told me," Grace informed them. The party galloped on until they reached the turn indicated by Grace where they halted and consulted, deciding that the road to the right was the one they should take. This road, according to Grace's information, should lead them to Joe Shafto's place, ten or fifteen miles further on, though it was not their purpose to go on to Joe's that night. The Overland Riders walked their horses after making the turn, there being no need for haste, as no one believed that the lumberjacks would follow, and further, the Overlanders were looking for a suitable camping place for the night. "This appears to be a good place to make camp," finally called Tom Gray, who was riding in the lead of the party. Tom pulled up and looked about him, the others riding up to him and halting. "No good!" answered a strange voice. "What? Who said that?" demanded Hippy. A man stepped out from the shadow of the trees and stood confronting the peering Overlanders. "It's Lo, the poor Indian!" cried Hippy. "Hello, Lo!" "So it is," agreed Tom. "How did you get here ahead of us?" "Come 'cross," answered the man, indicating with a gesture that he bad taken a short cut through the woods, though how he knew where they were going, unless he had heard their discussion at the point where they took the right-hand road, the Overlanders could not imagine. "You say this is 'no good' as a camping place. What is the matter with it?" demanded Tom Gray, regarding the Indian suspiciously. "No water. You come, me show." "Let him lead the way," suggested Elfreda. "Yes. Give the poor red man a chance," urged Hippy. The Indian, without asking further permission to lead them, turned and trotted along ahead at a typical Indian lope, and at a rate of speed that necessitated putting the ponies at a jog-trot in order to keep him in view. The Indian proceeded on for fully half a mile, then, turning sharply to the left, led them on until he reached the bank of a stream, to which he pointed as indicating their camping place. The site was hidden from the road by which they had arrived by trees and a bluff, thus protecting the party from discovery by persons passing along the road, which they readily understood the Indian had purposely planned. "Fine! Fine!" glowed Tom. "We are much obliged to you, and thank you," added Anne. "What is your name?" asked Elfreda as the girls began to dismount. "Willy Horse."