"But Kit is not a riding-horse, Joe; you could never overtake them. By this time those Indians are miles away."
"Father"—Joe leaned forward and spoke low in his father's ear—"the man that carried Nina off was not an Indian! When I struck him I knocked his bonnet to one side, his neck was white—and he had red hair!"
Joshua Peniman started violently.
"Red Snake!" he muttered.
For a moment he stood lost in thought, then said rapidly: "This is worse than I feared. We must go after her. We must get her out of his hands. I don't see how I can go——"
"You can't, Father! You can't be spared. Mother and the children need you here. But I can go—I'm all right now—I must go—I must find her!"
Joshua Peniman had been thinking swiftly.
"The best thing we can do," he broke in, "is to get to the Missions and Agencies and get word to the Government about this degenerate white man who lives with the Indians and is inciting them to raids and assaults for his own ends. Of course it's a terrible risk, it is taking your life in your hands, but the only hope that I can see of rescuing her is for some one to go to Bellevue and get Government aid. If I dared to leave the family——"
"This has proved that you dare not, Father. You must stay here. It is my place to go."
"But, Joe boy, do you realize the danger? Do you remember how far it is—how desolate and barren—what a lone, wearisome, lonesome trail?"