“Come on, Ruth,” said Grace, finally. “Let us go back home. We shall do no good by staying here. I suppose we can find our way home! The old Indian woman seems dreadfully upset, and our staying can only make matters worse. Naki will bring the doctor and attend to everything. Then he will let you know about Eunice.”
“I think we had better go,” Mollie agreed. “I know it will be best for Eunice.” She kissed the little Indian girl good-bye. “Tell your grandmother,” Mollie explained, “that Mr. Latham had nothing to do with the injury to you. She may have thought he was responsible.”
“I told you,” whispered Eunice in Mollie’s ear, “the name of Latham must not be mentioned in my house. When I first learned to read I found it written in an old book that told only the story of the Indian races. My grandmother tore it from my hand and threw it into the fire, and said I must never hear that English name again.”
“Oh!” Mollie faltered. “I remember you did say something about this to me, the first time I saw you, but I did not think about it. I do not understand it now. But never mind. Good-bye.”
“The Automobile Girls” joined Reginald Latham farther down the hill.
“What a crazy old thing that Indian woman is!” he muttered, laughing nervously. “She was only making a scene. She never heard the name of Latham before in her life.”
“I wonder if that is true?” pondered Mollie to herself all the way back to their cabin.