"I!—what is I?"
"Yes! it is you!" and he handed the much-soiled photograph labelled "Bogardus" to her.
She regarded it. "Why, how on earth did you come by this, Mr. John Ermine?"
"Sak-a-war-te sent it to me in the night, and he made it talk to me and he made me swear that I would seek the woman until I found her. Then she would be my wife. I have found you—I do not know—my head is burning—"
She scanned the photograph, and said in an undertone: "Taken last year in New York, and for him; yet you have it away out here in the middle of this enormous desert. He surely would not give it away to you. I do not understand." And she questioned him sharply as she returned the card.
"Who is this Sak-a-war-te?"
"He is God," said the scout.
"Oh!" she started up. The little miss had never heard God connected with affairs of this sort. An active fear of the fire which burned this extraordinary man's head began to oppress her.
"It is very strange. What has your god got to do with me,—with my—oh, you are joking, Mr. Ermine," she again appealed, a shadow of her old smile appearing.
"No, no; I am not joking. I have found you. I must believe what the spirits say to me when they take my mind from me and give it to you," returned the excited man.