"Never mind, dear. They want to inquire, perhaps--"

But while she was speaking, the Indians had wheeled into the gateway and
swept up with a headlong pace to the very door.

They swung themselves from their saddles, tethered their ponies to the
hitching rails and came quickly up on the porch.

Mrs. Wyman had thrown off her momentary fear. She stepped to the door
and opened it. Lilian trembled in every muscle. The leader of the party
was a huge fellow, much taller than his followers. He was more fantastic
in his dress, too, and had streaks of paint on his cheeks. The rest had
turkey feathers stuck into the bands of their slouch hats, and all had
blankets over their shoulders.

The chief uttered a surly "How!" and made a motion of his hand to his
mouth that he would like something to eat.

Mrs. Wyman smiled cordially, and said, "Come in."

He obeyed directly, the rest stalking after him in perfect silence. They
went at once through the sitting-room to the kitchen stove and held out
their hands to warm.

This done, they squatted on the floor, with various low guttural sounds
to each other, as if exchanging views. They apparently approved of the
comfort, for a stolid silence ensued.

Lilian was absolutely spellbound with terror and could not move. Mrs.