Morning dawned fresh and beautiful. Dr. DeWolf's symptoms continued favorable. Refreshed and re-invigorated, after an hour's repose, the watchers gathered around the breakfast table with cheerful faces. Too young and mirthful to be very seriously affected, for any great length of time, by what had occured, Little Wolf joined with her guests in sipping coffee, and talking over the events of the preceeding evening with becoming composure. During the meal, she slipped out to peep into the invalid's apartment. As she flitted from the room, the Doctor turned to Edward, who was gazing after her with an expression of intense admiration. "Ah, Ned," said he "your time has come." "Fact, Doctor, I do feel queer. The little witch is too much for me." "What can I do for you?" said the Doctor, with a professional nod. "O, leave me here to-day, Doctor. Positively, I can't go back with you." "What, Ned, allow me to fight my way alone, through a band of desperadoes?" said the Doctor, with feigned trepidation. "Pshaw, Doctor! there's no danger; their chief is dead, or wounded, and they've fled long before this time." Their young hostess broke in upon the conference with a smiling face. "Papa is resting very quietly," she said; "but I fear a return of his complaint. I shall feel anxious 'till you return, Doctor, if indeed, you still think you must go back this morning. Could not Mr. Sherman go for you? Daddy might show him the way." Edward cast an imploring look towards the Doctor, who magnanimously sacrificed his own ease to the wishes of his friend. "It will be necessary, for me to go myself," he replied; "but give yourself no uneaseiness, Miss DeWolf. I do not think your father will have a second attack. I will accept your offer of a guide, and, with your permission will leave my friend, Mr. Sherman, as my proxy." There was a slight dash of malice in the Doctor's last words, which Edward was too grateful to notice. When the hour for setting out arrived, daddy appeared, armed and equipped, for what his fears had magnified into an exceedingly perilous journey. At sight him, of Little Wolf burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. His little, insignificant figure was girded by an old leathern belt, which was literally stuck full, of such weapons as he could hastily pick up, about the premises. "Bless me! what do you expect to do with that outlandish outfit?" said his young mistress, when she was able to speak. "Why 'fend myself, to be sure," replied the old man indignantly. "O, fie, daddy," said she coaxingly; take off that heavy old belt. Why it makes you look so, and sweat so, too. Come, now, if you will, I'll lend you one of my pistols." The old man's rising temper was quite mollified, at the proposal of Little Wolf; for to sport those pistols, had been an honor, to which he had hitherto aspired in vain. "Well, now, I'll explain the case, honey," said he, attempting to approach her; "'tween you and me--"