and a blanket wrapping. The Indian will wear leggings, skirt and
blouse of skin, so you will be fairly covered. The hands and hair are
the weak points. You will have to keep them in the blanket."

He hesitated. "You can trust this girl?" he asked slowly.

Now why should he ask what he knew I could not answer? "Can you trust
me--or I you, for the matter of that?" I jerked out with a frown.
"This is an outlaw's land, and the wise man trusts no one except under
compulsion. I would not trust Singing Arrow for a moment if I could
help myself, but she is our only hope, so I trust her implicitly. I
advise you to do the same. Half measures are folly. If you try to be
cautious in your dealings with her, you will tie her hands so that the
whole thing will fall through. If she betrays us--well, you are in no
worse estate than now, and we will still have my sword and my men to
depend on. But that is a slender hope, and we will save it for a last
resort. Now we will hazard everything on this plan."

I had made my long speech nervously, knowing, in my heart, that what I
asked the man to do would take more courage of soul than one would
expect to find in his slender frame. For I might be throwing him over
to fiendish torment. The Indian women were cruel as weasels, and more
ingenious in their trap-setting than the men. It cooled my blood to
think what Singing Arrow's friendliness might really mean.

The prisoner heard me without flinching. "But what is Singing Arrow's
motive?" he asked, with his mournful eyes full on my own. "We cannot
read men's hearts, but, after all, there are but few springs that rule
their action. You know that I will be loyal to you to save my head, to
which, though it has served me badly, I yet cling. I know that you