Father Francisco did his office promptly. Probably never before had he married a man and a girl in boy’s clothes, but he asked no questions, either as to that or as to the creeds of the strangely mated pair before him. Creeds were for civilization and all it connoted, and Father Francisco had been too long on the frontier to refuse his offices to any who asked them. He tied Jack and Alagwa hard and fast, delivered himself of a brisk and kindly little homily, blessed them, pocketed the fee that Jack slipped into his hand, and went quietly away to his duties. A buzz of congratulations followed. Fantine wept over Alagwa’s curly head. “Tell him who you are,” she whispered. “Tell him who you are.” Then came Cato, who bowed over her hand and called her “Mist’ess.” Last came Rogers. “I’m mighty glad,” said the old man. “I always said you was a durned nice boy and I calculate you’ll make a durned nice girl. I just want to warn you about talking too much, but I guess it ain’t really necessary. You ain’t always breaking in on them that’s older than you and trying to air your opinions. Most folks keeps a-talkin’ and a-talkin’, but you’re right quiet, and that’s a mighty good start toward a happy home. I reckon you’ll do, even if you was brung up with the Injuns. I got something for you. Leastways it’s for Jack, and I reckon it’s all the same now.” The old man dug a letter out of his pocket. “Here’s that epistle I was tellin’ Jack about this afternoon,” he went on. “It come half an hour ago, while you two was a-talkin’, and I got it and kept it till you was through. It’s from Alabam’, and I reckon it’s from Jack’s folks. I reckon you’d like to hand it to him. Anyway, I got to go now. Give it to him when you like. I guess there ain’t anything in it that won’t keep for a while.” Alagwa took the letter. But Rogers was wrong in thinking that she was glad to give it to Jack. Though proficient in the Indians’ picture writing, she knew nothing of the white men’s lettering and she held it in awe. Almost sooner would she have touched a snake. As quickly as possible she handed it to Jack; then stood back and watched him as he broke the seal. As he began to read, something--perhaps it was Alagwa’s strained attention--drew the eyes of the group upon him. Abruptly all grew silent, as if something portentous was in the air. Jack smiled as he read. Clearly the news was good. Then suddenly his expression changed. A look of terror swept across his face. He flung up his hands, reeled, and cried out. Then before even Alagwa could reach him he toppled to the floor. Instantly Alagwa was on her knees beside him. “Jack! Jack!” she wailed. “Jack! Jack!”