Before Dan could decide what he ought to do, a pounding of horse's feet was heard just below the bend, and a wiry brown pony leaped into view. The old Indian sprang from his hiding place so suddenly that the small horse reared, but the rider, her dark face flushed, her wonderful eyes flashing angrily, cried: "What did I tell you last time you stopped me? Didn't I say I'd shoot? You know I pack a gun, and I _never_ miss. I can't give you any more money. I'm saving all I can to go away to school. I've told you that before, and if you _are_ my father, as you're always telling me that you are, you'd ought to be glad if I'm going to have a chance." The old Indian whined something, which Dan could not hear. Impatiently the girl took from her pocket a coin and tossed it to him. "I don't believe you're hungry. You don't need to be, with squirrels as thick as they are. You'll spend all I give you on fire-water, if you can get it." Already the old Indian, evidently satisfied with what he had received, had started shambling down the road in the direction of the town, but the girl turned in the saddle to call after him: "Mind you, that's the last time I'll give you money. I don't believe that you are my father, and neither does Mammy Heger." She might have been talking to the wind for all the attention the old Indian paid. His pace had increased as the descent became steeper. Dan felt guilty because he had overheard a conversation not meant for his ears, and he drew the children away toward the cabin, and so heard, rather than saw, the girl's rapid flight up the road. The chivalry of the ages stirred in his heart. "It's a wicked shame that she hasn't a brother to protect her," he thought. "A young girl ought not to be tormented by such a coward. Slinking Coyote, that's what he is. Blackmailing, it would be called in civilized countries." Dan's indignation increased as he recalled how wonderfully beautiful the girl had looked when her dark eyes had flashed in anger. "I'd be far more inclined to think her a daughter of noble birth." His thoughts were interrupted by Julie, who, believing that they were a safe distance from the road, asked anxiously, "Who was the awful looking man, Dan? Will he hurt us?" The same question had presented itself to Dan, but he made himself say lightly, "Oh, no! That old Indian isn't at all interested in us. He evidently is just a beggar. He was asking the mountain girl for money and she gave it to him." Then, as an afterthought, he cautioned, "Don't mention having seen him to Jane, will you, children?" Willingly they agreed. They were indeed pleased to share a secret with their big brother. Julie chattered on, "Dan, I'd like to go up and see that nice girl. Do you think she'd let me ride on her pony? May Gerald and I go up there tomorrow?"