“Oh, Charlie Bent, see what you’ve done,” Mat cried; and then Beverly was picking up “Little Lees,” sprawling, all mud-smeared and happy, in the very middle of the court.

The child stood looking at her with shining black eyes full of a wicked mischief, but he said not a word.

Just then a dull grunt caught my ear, and I half-turned to see a cot beyond mine.  An Indian boy lay on it, looking straight at me.  I stared back at him and neither of us spoke.  His head was bandaged and his cheek was swollen, but with my memory for faces, even Indian faces, I knew him at once for the boy who had followed us into Agua Fria and out of it again.

Just then the frolickers came to the door and peered in at me.

“Are you awake?” Eloise asked.

Then seeing my face, she came romping in, followed by Mat and Beverly and little Charlie Bent, all wet and hilarious.  They gave no heed to the Indian boy, who pretended to be asleep.  Once, however, I caught him watching Beverly, and his eyes were like dagger points.

“We are having the best times.  You must get well right away, because we are going to stay.”  They all began to clatter, noisily.

Rex Krane appeared at the door just then and they stopped suddenly.

“Clear out of here, you magpies,” he commanded, and they scuttled away into the warm rain and the puddles again.

“Do you want anything, Gail?” Rex asked, bending over me.

I drew his head down with my right arm.

“I want that Indian out of here,” I whispered.

“Out he goes,” Rex returned, promptly, and almost before I knew it the boy was taken away.  When we were alone the tall young man sat down beside me.

“You want to ask me a million questions.  I’ll answer ’em to save you the trouble,” he began, in his comfortable way.

“You are wounded in your shoulder.  Slight, bullet, that’s Mexican; deep, arrow, that’s Indian.  But you are here and pretty much alive and you will be well soon.”

“And Uncle Esmond?  Jondo?  Bill?” I began, lifting myself up on my well arm.

“Keep quiet.  I’ll answer faster.  Everybody all right.  Clarenden and Jondo leave for Independence the minute you are better, and a military escort permits.”

I dropped down again.

“The U.S.  Army, en route for perdition, via Santa Fe, is camping in the big timbers down-stream now.  Jondo and Esmond Clarenden will leave you boys and girls here till it’s safe to take you out again.  And I and Daniel Boone, vestal god and goddess of these hearth-fires, will keep you from harm till that time.  Bill’s joining the army for sure now, and our happy family life is ended as far as the Santa Fe Trail is concerned.  I’m a well man now, but not quite army-well yet, they tell me.”

“Tell me about this.”  I pointed to my shoulder.