"Of course! If they are going to fight, we shall fight; though for your sake I hope that won't be necessary."
"Oh, you must not mind me," was the reply, given with a little laugh. "The truth is that I think I should rather enjoy a fight."
Stane gave her a quick look of admiration. "I know you will not be afraid," he said, "and if Anderton gets through it may not be long before help arrives. Also it must be remembered that we may be disturbing ourselves unnecessarily. That," he nodded towards the arrow—"may be no more than the malicious freak of some hunter returning home, and meant to scare us."
"But you do not think so?" asked Helen, looking at his grave face.
"Well——" he began, but the girl interrupted him.
"You don't," she cried. "I know you don't. You have already admitted that you think the matter is serious, as I do myself, though I don't pretend to know anything about Indians. In a situation of this sort the truth is the best, and I know, we both know, that there is some occasion for concern. Is not that so?"
"Well," he agreed, "we can't be too careful."
"Then tell me what we must do," she said a little reproachfully, "and don't make me feel that I am a child."
He considered a moment, then he replied: "We must keep watch and watch through the night. Not that I think there will be any attack. These Northern Indians are wonderfully patient. They will play a waiting game, and in the end make a surprise attack. They will know that now we are on the alert, and I should not be surprised if for the present they have withdrawn altogether."
"You really believe that?"