"Through?" he asked, carelessly; "well, then, it isn't a Pocahontas; it isn't an Indian at all. It is only a little white girl whose father was--was an old partner. Well, he's gone 'over the range'--dead, you know--and the girl is left to hustle for herself. Naturally, she heard I was in this region, and as none of her daddy's old friends were around but me, she just made her camp over there with the Kootenais, and waited till I reached the river again. She'll go with me down to Sinna; and if she hasn't any other home in prospect, I'll just locate her there with Mrs. Huzzard, the milliner-cook, for the present. Now, that's the story." "And a very pretty little one it is, too," agreed Mr. Max. "For a backwoodsman, who is not supposed to have experience, it is very well put together. Oh, don't frown like that! I'll believe she's your granddaughter, if you say so," and he laughed in wicked enjoyment at Overton's flushed face. "It's all right, Dan. I congratulate you. But I wouldn't have thought it." "I suppose, now," remarked Dan, witheringly, "that by all these remarks and giggles you are trying to be funny. Is that it? Well, as the fun of it is not visible to me yet, I'll just keep my laughter till it is. In the meantime, I'm going over to call on my ward, Miss Rivers, and you can hustle for funny things around camp until I come back." "Oh, say, Dan, don't be vindictive. Take me along, won't you? I'll promise to be good--'pon honor I will. I'll do penance for any depraved suspicions I may have indulged in. I'll--I'll even shake hands again with Black Bow, there! Beyond that, I can think of no more earnest testimony of repentance." "I shall go by myself," decided Overton. "So make a note of it, if you see the young lady before to-morrow, it will be because she specially requests it. Understand? I'm not going to have her bothered by people who are only curious; not but that she can take her own part, as you'll maybe learn later. But she was too upset to talk much last night. So I'll go over and finish this morning, and in the meantime, this side of the river is plenty good enough for you." "Is it?" murmured Mr. Lyster, as he eyed the stalwart form of the retreating guardian, who was so bent on guarding. "Well, it would do my heart good, anyway, to fasten another canoe right alongside of yours where you land over there, and I shouldn't be surprised if I did it." Thus it happened that while Overton was skimming upward across the river, his friend, on mischief bent, was getting a canoe ready to launch. A few minutes after Overton had disappeared toward the Indian village, the second canoe danced lightly over the Kootenai, and the occupant laughed to himself, as he anticipated the guardian's surprise.