on firmer ground.

Promptly lifting her high treble, yet with a certain acquired
deliberation, she began, "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow." At
the end of the second line the whispering and laughing ceased. A deep
voice to the right, that of the champion poker player, suddenly rose
on the swell of the third line. He was instantly followed by a dozen
ringing voices, and by the time the last line was reached it was given
with a full chorus, in which the dull chant of teamsters and drivers
mingled with the soprano of Mrs. Peyton and Susy's childish treble.
Again and again it was repeated, with forgetful eyes and abstracted
faces, rising and falling with the night wind and the leap and gleam of
the camp fires, and fading again like them in the immeasurable mystery
of the darkened plain.

In the deep and embarrassing silence that followed, at last the party
hesitatingly broke up, Mrs. Peyton retiring with Susy after offering
the child to Clarence for a perfunctory "good-night" kiss, an unusual
proceeding, which somewhat astonished them both--and Clarence found
himself near Mr. Peyton.

"I think," said Clarence timidly, "I saw an Injin to-day."

Mr. Peyton bent down towards him. "An Injin--where?" he asked quickly,
with the same look of doubting interrogatory with which he had received
Clarence's name and parentage.

The boy for a moment regretted having spoken. But with his old
doggedness he particularized his statement. Fortunately, being gifted
with a keen perception, he was able to describe the stranger accurately,