Before the crowd could guess what was going to happen, they saw Cindy seemingly plunge the cruel blade into her heart. Blood spurted, and just before she fell Cindy heard a woman scream. A moment later Cindy got up, bowed, and to the mad applause of everyone except the man with cat's eyes, leaped lightly from the tailboard. Still grinning, Alec joined her. "Gee! You were great, sis!" he exclaimed. "Was I really?" "Best ever. And you sure bowled over one member of your audience." "The woman who screamed?" [Illustration] "No, the man who tested your knife, the one with a bandana over his hair and another around his neck. I was standing right next to him, and he said, 'Weetch girl! Weetch girl!' Did you know you're a witch girl?" "Oh, no!" Cindy groaned. "Oh, yes," Alec teased. "Wonder what he'd say if he knew that when you press the handle of that knife just right, the blade slides back into it and a squirt of catsup jumps out?" "Alec," Cindy was thoughtful, "did you notice anything strange about that man?" "He looked like an Indian." "Do you remember what old Mrs. Bevers said when we left Missouri?" "Sure. She said, 'Luck will follow you if you beware a man with cat's eyes.'" "Alec, that man had cat's eyes!" "Aw now, Cindy!" "He did," Cindy said firmly. "Now, sis, don't go believing your own magic!" "Have it your own way, but he still had cat's eyes." "Then I'll sic a dog onto him," Alec laughed. "Come on, sis. There's somebody I want you to meet." He led her away from the lighted tailboard back into the shadows. Cindy saw her father, mother, and Pete Brent, the man with whom her father would make the ride into Oklahoma as soon as the border was opened. But there was also someone else. Too surprised to move for a second, Cindy stopped in her tracks. Then she raced forward to fling herself into the arms of a slender, lovely girl whose soft, dark eyes reflected only delight and who, like Cindy, wore a gingham dress that covered her from her neck to the tops of her shoes. "Mindy!" They hugged each other, and still holding hands, stepped apart. "When did you come?" Cindy asked happily. "Daddy met the train to see if there was a message from me. He found me instead." "Oh! It's so nice to have you back!" "Sit down, children," Mrs. Simpson said quietly. "If you become too excited neither one of you will sleep tonight. Oh dear, Cindamine! Catsup all over your dress again!" "I'll wash it, Mother," Cindy said cheerfully. "I know, dear," her mother said, "but you're eleven now, going on twelve. Isn't it time you were becoming a lady, like Miranda?" "Sure, Mom," Cindy said agreeably. She sat in the trampled grass beside her sister, and their arms stole about each other. Pete Brent, a tall, lean, dark-haired man with friendly eyes and a ready smile, chuckled. "I declare! If 'twasn't for that catsup, I couldn't tell 'em apart!" "Neither can anyone else," their father said.