"Oh! oh! Papa! Papa! Papa!" she screamed, in a childish treble. "Bad Indian! He's hurting mamma! He's choking mamma!"
Lennon pressed her face hard against his breast to stifle her shrieks.
"Be still," he shouted. "Stop that noise. You're safe. Be still. Hear me? You're safe."
Checked by the sternness of his voice the distracted girl hushed her hysterical cries. When he repeated that she was safe, she at last seemed to grasp the fact. Yet she continued to cling fast to him.
"Tell me quick," he demanded. "Is an Indian following you?"
"No-no-no!" she babbled. "It's mamma—he's choking her! He——"
The tremulous words broke off in a gasp of astonishment. The wild blue eyes stared up at Lennon in bewildered lack of recognition.
"Why—why, you're not my papa!" she cried.
"Of course not, Blossom. I'm Jack—Brother Jack. Don't you know me?"
The girl shrank back.