Sandy immediately sprang over to join forces with his brother, for whatever Bob did was right, in his mind, and he stood ready to back him up to the end. "What does all this foolishness mean?" demanded the tall pioneer as he came to where Bob was still kneeling beside his patient, with the bandage just secured by a strip of narrow linen which his mother was never without, since every housewife in those days had to be ready for emergencies. Bob did not answer. He waited until Mr. Brady saw the young Indian, who met the angry glare in the settler's eyes with a defiant look. Blue Jacket even hastened to sit up, and fold his sinewy arms across his chest. It was the attitude which he conceived a true warrior ought to assume when ready to chant his death song, and laugh at Fate. "An Injun!" roared the furious man, making a threatening movement with his long musket. "They told me so, but I couldn't hardly believe it. A red viper in our camp, to be nursed back to life so that he can bring his fellows down on us some fine night, and scalp the whole company. We'll soon settle that!" "Hold on, Mr. Brady," said Bob calmly. "What do you mean to do?" He had placed himself in front of the wounded Indian, shielding his painted body with his own. Sandy stood close at hand, ready to clutch the arm of the infuriated man should he dare venture to extremes. And Mr. Armstrong came hurrying up, urged on by his alarmed wife. "Shoot the snake as he deserves, if you must know!" shouted the man, who had worked himself up into a condition bordering on hysteria. "Who knows but what it was him that wounded my poor brother, Caleb! One Injun more or less can never matter much, anyway. So stand aside, Bob Armstrong, and let me put him out of his misery, like you would a mad dog." But he greatly mistook the temper of Bob, if he thought that threats like this could have any influence over him. On the contrary the young pioneer only spread himself more squarely in front of his helpless charge. "No, you shall not hurt him, Mr. Brady. Sandy and I found him, and he belongs to us. Pat O'Mara is still in charge of this company, and he has told us we could do what we wanted with him. Besides, he is only one lone Indian, and can do us no harm. Perhaps, if we help him now, he may not forget it some time in the future. For we are come here to stay always, and his people belong here." The man dared not attempt to fire while Bob thus interposed his body between; besides, he had a healthy respect for the redoubtable Irish trapper. "Is that true, O'Mara?" he demanded. "Have you given these foolish lads permission to keep this varmint alive when he's better off if dispatched?" "'Tis a fact that they prejudiced me in favor av thot same ijee, aven though I was opposed to the same in the sthart," responded the genial Pat, winking at Sandy while he spoke. "And p'raps it's best thot ye do be mindin' yer own business, Mr. Brady, meanin' no offence at all."