by three firm knocks at the door. Jacques rose from his
seat, and opening it a few inches, looked out into the
clear moonlight. He paused a moment, then asked--

"Who are you, and what you want?"

"How!" [Footnote: Form of salutation in common use among
the Indians and half-breeds.] responded a strange-voice.

"Aha! Child-of-Light!" exclaimed Jacques.

And into the room strode a splendid specimen of a red
man in all the glory of war paint and feathers.




CHAPTER II

TIDINGS OF ILL

"Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnished sun."
_Merchant of Venice._

"How! How!" said the rancher, looking up at the tall
Indian. "You are welcome to my fireside, Child-of-Light.
Sit down."

He rose and gave him his hand. With a simple dignity the