She rose presently and going to the door called Nina.
As the girl came bounding into the room Hannah Peniman looked at her with new eyes. The little Princess was now a slender, graceful, beautiful girl of fourteen, with a head of rippling gold, eyes like wood-violets, and a face so entrancingly lovely that Mrs. Peniman's heart sank as she looked at it.
She drew the girl gently down on a chair beside her.
"Listen, dear," her voice was low, almost sad, as she spoke, "you never knew the Indian that Ruth found on the prairies to-day and that Father and the boys buried this evening, but he has done you a great, an inestimable service. You have heard us speak of him, and how we took care of Eagle Eye when he was wounded. That was at the time that both you and Joe were away, after you were kidnapped by the Indians. Father Peniman trusted Eagle Eye, and told him your story. He went away without a word, but in some way he got possession of the box containing your papers——"
Nina started up from her chair.
"The box—the dispatch-box—that Mother left me?"
"Yes, Nina. He got it, and he was bringing it back to us when he became lost in the blizzard. He gave his life in the effort to restore it."
"But the box—the box—Mother's box?" cried Nina, her hands clasped, her face white, her eyes wide and pleading.
"That was the box that Ruth found this afternoon lying on the prairie beside Eagle Eye's body."
"And you have it—you got it—it—it——" her agitation was too great for words.