I never heard of a little girl who could eat a piece of bread well covered with jam or preserves without failing to get most of it on her mouth. Dot Clarendon was no exception to the rule; and before she was through a goodly part of it, the sticky sweet stuff was on her cheeks and nose. When she looked up at the two who were watching her, the sight was so comical that Red Feather did that which I do not believe he had done a dozen times in all his life--he threw back his head and laughed loud. Melville caught the contagion and gave way to his mirth, which was increased by the naive remark of Dot that she couldn't see anything to laugh at. [Illustration: "He threw back his head and laughed loud."] The appetite of the young queen having been satisfied, Melville insisted on Red Feather sharing what was left with him. The Sioux declined at first, but yielded, and the remaining bread and milk furnished them a grateful and nourishing repast. They did not use all, but saved enough to supply another meal for Dot, whose appetite was sure to make itself felt before many hours passed by. Like most boys of his age in these later days, Melville Clarendon carried a watch, which showed that it was past three o'clock in the afternoon. This was considerably later than he supposed, and proved that in the rush of incidents time had passed faster than he had suspected. "What shall I do?" asked the youth, turning to the chief. "Go--up up," he replied, pointing up the steps; "watch out. Red Feather--he watch out here." "Do you want Dot to stay with you?" asked Melville, pausing on his way to the steps. "Leave wid Red Feather--he take heap care ob pappoose." "There can be no doubt of _that_," remarked the brother, as he bounded up the stairs, resuming his former station near the window. Looking out with the same care he had shown from the first, he found the Sioux had grown tired of galloping round the house and buildings, or they were plotting some other kind of mischief, for only one of them was in sight. He was seated on his pony on the crest of the hill from which the signals were made to the Muddy Creek warriors. A moment's study of the red men showed that his attention was directed not toward the west but the north, in the direction of the settlement. "He is now looking for enemies instead of friends," was the conclusion of Melville. The truth was, the youth was beginning to wonder why the settlers did not come. If no accident had befallen his parents, they ought to have reached Barwell several hours before, and a gallop of ten miles was only a moderate ride for a party of horsemen eager to strike the marauders a blow. But the fact that they were not yet in sight set the youth speculating as to what the result was likely to be if they did not come at all, or rather, if their coming should be delayed until nightfall, for it was not to be supposed that relief would not be sent sooner or later.