Another silence, and then the voice called:
“Felicia!”
“Papa!”
“Get off dat horse and come here quick-a!”
She seemed to hesitate, and then she tightened her arms about Frank’s neck, murmuring in his ear:
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll not let my papa hurt you.”
A second later she had slipped to the ground and was running toward the dark woods, into which she disappeared.
Frank and Bart stood waiting what was to follow. The sound of murmuring voices came from amid the grim old trees, and the child was heard relating to her father the story of her thrilling and exciting adventures. But it seemed that the man meditated upon the proper course to pursue, for she was forced to plead with him in behalf of Frank and Bart.
“They are good, papa—I know they are,” they heard her declare. “The one who fought so hard for me with the great, big, bad man is just as kind and gentle.”
After a time the man came forth from the darkness, leading the child by the hand, while he carried his rifle in his other hand. He seemed to be keenly on the alert, as if he did not trust the strangers, for all of the words of his child.