“Yes, Joe, and right glad I am to find you,” answered the young man, while a peculiar expression of pleasure came over his face.

“It’s good to see you again!  And here’s my old dog Mose!  But how on earth did you know?  Where did you strike my trail?  What are you going to do out here on the frontier?  Tell me all.  What happened after I left—–­”

Then Joe saw Nell standing nearby, pale and distressed, and he felt something was amiss.  He glanced quickly from her to his brother; she seemed to be dazed, and Jim looked grave.

“What the deuce—?  Nell, this is my brother Jim, the one I told you about.  Jim, this is my friend, Miss Wells.”

“I am happy to meet Miss Wells,” said Jim, with a smile, “even though she did slap my face for nothing.”

“Slapped you?  What for?” Then the truth dawned on Joe, and he laughed until the tears came into his eyes.  “She took you for me!  Ha, ha, ha!  Oh, this is great!”

Nell’s face was now rosy red and moisture glistened in her eyes; but she tried bravely to stand her ground.  Humiliation had taken the place of anger.

“I—­I—­am sorry, Mr. Downs.  I did take you for him.  He—­he has insulted me.”  Then she turned and ran into the cabin.

Chapter II.

Joe and Jim were singularly alike.  They were nearly the same size, very tall, but so heavily built as to appear of medium height, while their grey eyes and, indeed, every feature of their clean-cut faces corresponded so exactly as to proclaim them brothers.

“Already up to your old tricks?” asked Jim, with his hand on Joe’s shoulder, as they both watched Nell’s flight.

“I’m really fond of her, Jim, and didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.  But tell me about yourself; what made you come West?”

“To teach the Indians, and I was, no doubt, strongly influenced by your being here.”

“You’re going to do as you ever have—­make some sacrifice.  You are always devoting yourself; if not to me, to some other.  Now it’s your life you’re giving up.  To try to convert the redskins and influence me for good is in both cases impossible.  How often have I said there wasn’t any good in me!  My desire is to kill Indians, not preach to them, Jim.  I’m glad to see you; but I wish you hadn’t come.  This wild frontier is no place for a preacher.”

“I think it is,” said Jim, quietly.

“What of Rose—­the girl you were to marry?”

Joe glanced quickly at his brother.  Jim’s face paled slightly as he turned away.

“I’ll speak once more of her, and then, never again,” he answered.  “You knew Rose better than I did.  Once you tried to tell me she was too fond of admiration, and I rebuked you; but now I see that your wider experience of women had taught you things I could not then understand.  She was untrue.  When you left Williamsburg, apparently because you had gambled with Jewett and afterward fought