“None of your business,” she flung at him, leading her pony toward a convenient stump.
“Peggy!” called Gaspard. Slowly she turned her face toward him. “Peggy, will you do something for me?” He walked over toward her. “Peggy, I want you to take Paul home for me. He is quite all right, I think, but I would feel safer if you were with him. Will you?”
“Yes, Uncle Hugh,” said the little girl, her self-respect much restored.
“And, Paul—sure you feel all right?” enquired his father.
“Sure thing. Perfeckly all right, Daddy,” replied the boy stoutly.
“Well, then, ride slowly home together. Don’t race. And don’t tell Mother anything about the accident, about what’s happened, till I return. I don’t want her frightened. You understand, Paul, don’t you? I can trust you, eh?”
“Yes, Daddy, you can trust me.” And, sitting his pony very straight and gripping tight with his knees, he set off, crying out, “Good-bye, all! Come along, Peg.”
“Good-bye, Uncle Hugh. Good-bye, little baby. Good-bye, all,” cried Peg, putting her horse to a gallop to overtake Paul who was just disappearing round a turn in the trail.
CHAPTER VI
When Gaspard turned from waving his son good-bye he found himself facing the chief and his daughter.