“Dash on!  I follow!” said Marjorie, and with a mad rush, the two fierce Indians dashed out from behind their bush, and captured the pale-faced Maiden.

Kitty struggled and shrieked in correct fashion, while the Indians danced about her, brandishing imaginary tomahawks, and shrieking moderately loud warwhoops.

The terrified paleface was just about to surrender, when the noble young Brave, Ipecacuanha, dashed forth, and sprang into the fray, rescuing the maiden just in the nick of time.  Holding the paleface, who lay limp and gasping in his left arm, the young Indian madly fought the other two of his own tribe with his strong right arm.  Apparently he, too, had a tomahawk, for he fearfully brandished an imaginary weapon, and did it so successfully, that Opodeldoc and his faithful Squaw were felled to the ground.  Then the brave young Indian and the fair girl he had saved from her dire fate danced a war dance round their prostrate captives, and chanted a weird Indian dirge, that caused the fallen Chief to sit up and roar with laughter.

“You children do beat all!” he exclaimed once more.  “And, by jiminy crickets! there goes the breakfast bell!  Are you wild Indians fit to appear in a civilized dining-room?”

“’Course we are!” cried Marjorie, jumping up and shaking her frills into place.  Kitty stood demurely beside her, and sure enough, the two girls were quite fresh and dainty enough for breakfast.

“You see,” explained Marjorie, “this wasn’t a real tumble around play.  Sometimes when we play Indians, we lose our hair-ribbons and even tear our frocks, but to-day we’ve behaved pretty well, haven’t we, King?”

“Yep,” assented her brother, looking at the girls critically, “you look fine.  Am I all right?”

“Yes,” said Marjorie, as she smoothed down one refractory lock at the back of his head.  “We’re all ready, Cousin Jack.”  She turned a smiling face toward him, and remarking once again, “You do beat all!” the ex-Chief marched his young visitors in to breakfast.

After that delightful and very merry meal was over, Cousin Ethel announced that she would take charge of the two girls that morning, and that King could share in their occupation or not as he chose.

“You see, it’s this way, girlies,” said Cousin Ethel, after she had led the way to a pleasant corner of the veranda, and her guests were grouped about her.  “A Charity Club to which I belong is going to have a sort of an entertainment which is not exactly a fair or a bazaar, but which is called a Peddler’s Festival.  Of course, it is to make money for charity, and while the older people have charge of it, they will be assisted by young people, and even children.  Now I think it will be lovely for you chick-a-biddies to take part in this affair, if you want to; but if you don’t want to, you must say so frankly, for you’re not going to do anything you don’t like while your Cousin Ethel is on deck!”