“Fancy Henry dancing with the Indians and with a blanket on,” laughed Bess, as she patted him on the shoulder and looked at him with saucy, smiling eyes from under her fluffy hair. She could not know that the malicious remark of Davis cut West like a knife, and did not understand that the purport of the words was—“why do you not go where you belong instead of mingling with white people.” For a brief moment West looked at Davis, who quickly turned his face; then he said carelessly and indifferently, “I know all those dances, Miss Bess, and perhaps some day you may be applauding me instead of Two Feathers.” As he lifted his broad-brimmed hat to her and the others in the party, he sprang to the saddle with one easy swing of his leg, reined Eagle abruptly about and started swiftly away. Davis looked at Bess as she watched Henry West, feeling no little chagrin at her look. She seemed to lose interest in the dances now that he was gone, and though Davis tried to point out the especial features of the Sun dance and Medicine dance, she watched them half-interestedly. “Come—let us see if the others have not had quite enough by this time,” said Bess, after the Indians had given two more long, fantastic dances. As the horses were brought out for the relay race, and the party moved to be nearer the track Bess again became filled with excitement. James had explained to her that this race was ten miles, or around the half-mile track twenty times; there were three entries and each rider could have three horses. They were to change horses, re-saddle and remount unassisted, except that some one could help in holding the horses after each mile. The rider completing in the quickest time, of course, won the prize. Bess had only eyes for Henry West as he led his horses down the track to the starting point. One horse was already saddled, and walking by West’s side was the Indian who was to ride his horses.