"A family resemblance—but her actions, her walk and her manner—there is Indian blood in her veins, splendid blood too. Her great-grandmother was the daughter of a noted chief. Many Old Countrymen married squaws in early Canadian days."
"Oh!" said the boy, "so that is why she puts her foot down so straight."
His young voice was so comical as he said this, that both parents burst out laughing.
It broke the nervous strain, and Mrs. Devering said in a matter-of-fact voice, "I think we would better all get home."
I stirred a little as I stood beside the big horses, and Mr. Devering's eye fell on me.
"Boy," he said, "how did you happen to take this little fellow to-night?"
"He put himself in my way," said Big Chief, "and Attaboy had gone lame."
"He isn't lame now," said his father.
Big Chief put up a hand and rumpled his hair. "You know horses better than I do, Dad. Will you examine the little brute, and see if there is anything the matter with him?"
I demurely put up with a thorough examination carried on by aid of an electric torch and the moonlight.