"Now, let's be off!" Ruth insisted.

"What are you going to do now, Ruth Stuart?" Mollie demanded.

"Why, what can we do," Ruth replied, "except go straight up to the wigwam for Eunice and run away with her before anyone else can."

"Run away with her!" faltered Grace.

"What else can we do?" queried Ruth. "If we delay in getting Eunice out of Mrs. Latham's and Reginald's clutches, they will place the child where no one can ever find her. Mrs. Latham will then persuade her brother to give up his search. We must save Eunice."

"But what will Aunt Sallie say?" cried Barbara.

"I have written Aunt Sallie," Ruth explained, "that we would take Eunice to a nearby town. We can telegraph Aunt Sallie from there."

"But, suppose, Ruth," Grace suggested, "the Indian grandmother will not let Eunice go with us."

"Never mind, Grace," Bab retorted, "'The Automobile Girls' must overcome obstacles. I believe the old grandmother will let Eunice come with us, if we tell her the whole story. We must explain that Mr. Winthrop Latham wants to see Eunice in order to be kind to her and not to harm her, and ask the squaw if Eunice is Mr. William Latham's child. We must make her understand that Mrs. Latham and Reginald are her enemies, we are her friends----"

"Is that all, Bab?" laughed Grace. "It sounds simple."

"Never mind," Mollie now broke in to the conversation, "I believe I can somehow explain matters to Mother Eunice."

By noon "The Automobile Girls" were halfway up the hill that led to the wigwam.

Mollie, who was walking ahead, heard a low sound like a sob. Crouched under a tree, several yards away, was little Eunice. At the sight of Mollie she ran forward. A few feet from her she stopped. A look of distrust crossed her face.

"Why did you come here?" she asked in her old wild fashion.

"Why, Eunice," Mollie asked quietly, "are you not glad to see your friends?"

At first, Eunice shook her head. Then she flung her arms around Mollie's neck. "I want to give you that strange thing you called a kiss," she said. "I am so glad to see you that my heart sings. But grandmother told me you meant to sell me to the strange man, who looked at me so curiously yesterday. So I came back up the hill with her. You would not sell me, would you? You are my friends?"

"Look into my eyes, Eunice," Mollie whispered. "Do I look as though I meant to harm you? You told me once that if you could see straight into the eyes of the creatures in the woods you would know whether their hearts were good. Is my heart good?"

"Yes, yes!" Eunice cried. "Forgive me."

"But we want you to have a great deal of faith in us, Eunice," Mollie persisted. "We want you to go away with us this very afternoon. Take us to your grandmother. We must ask her consent."

Eunice shook her head. "I cannot go," she declared, finally.

"But, Eunice, if you will only go with us, you can buy more pretty gold chains. You can buy beads and Indian blankets for your grandmother,"

coaxed Grace. "Who knows? Some day you may even own a big, red bird like Ruth's, and fly like 'The Automobile Girls.'"

Still Eunice shook her head.

"But you will come with us, if your grandmother says you may?" Ruth urged.

"No," Eunice declared. "I cannot."

"Why, Eunice?" Mollie queried gently.

"Because," said Eunice, "to-day I fly up in the sky!" The child pointed over her head.

"Why, the child is mad from her illness and the fatigue of her long walk up here," Grace e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed in distress.

But Eunice laughed happily. "To-day I fly like the birds, high overhead.

Long have I wished to go up into the big blue heaven away over the trees and the hilltops. To-day I shall fly away, truly!"

The girls stared at Eunice in puzzled wonder. They could understand nothing of the strange tale she told them. Was the child dreaming?

A light dawned upon Mollie.

"Girls!" Mollie cried, "Reginald Latham is going to take Eunice off in his airship!"

"Can it be possible?" Bab exclaimed.

"Eunice," asked Mollie, "are you going for a ride in the big balloon I showed you yesterday as we rode away from the hospital?"

"Yes," Eunice declared. "Last night the young man who came to Naki's house talked with me. He whispered to me, that if I were good and did not tell my grandmother, he would take me to ride with him in his great ship of the winds. But he will bring me home to my own wigwam to-night. I will go with you in your carriage to-morrow. Now, I wait for the man to find me. He told me to meet him here, away from my grandmother's far-seeing eyes."

"Eunice," Mollie commanded firmly, "come with me to your wigwam."

"But you will tell my grandmother! Then she will not let me fly away!"

Eunice cried.

"You cannot fly with Reginald Latham, Eunice," Mollie a.s.serted. "He will not bring you back again to the wigwam. He will leave you in some strange town, away from your own people. You will never see your grandmother. You will never see us again!"

Eunice, trembling, followed the other girls to the wigwam.

"I believe," Bab said thoughtfully as they walked on, "that Reginald Latham planned to get Eunice away from this place forever. He did not mean to injure her. He would probably have put her in some school far away. But Mr. Winthrop Latham would never have seen her. Eunice would not then take half of the Latham fortune from Reginald. Just think! Who could ever trace a child carried away in an airship? She might be searched for if she went in trains or carriages, but no one but the birds could know of her flight through the air."

The old grandmother heard "The Automobile Girls" approaching.

She was standing in front of a blazing fire. With a grunt of rage, the old woman seized a flaming pine torch and ran straight at Mollie.

"Put that down!" commanded Barbara, hotly. "You are a stupid old woman.

We have come to save Eunice for you. Unless you listen to us she will be stolen from you this very afternoon. You will never see her again. There is no use in your trying to hide Eunice any longer. We know and her uncle knows, that she is the child of your daughter and of Mr. William Latham.

You told Mr. Winthrop Latham that Eunice died when her mother did."

Barbara had depended on her imagination for the latter part of her speech, but she knew, now, that she had guessed the truth.

Under her brown leather-like skin the old squaw turned pale.

Then Mollie explained gently to the old woman that Mrs. Latham and Reginald were Eunice's enemies; that they wished to be rid of Eunice so that they might inherit her father's money. She told of Reginald Latham's plan to carry Eunice away that afternoon.

"Now, Mother Eunice," Mollie ended, "won't you let little Eunice go away with us this afternoon, instead? We will take good care of her, and will bring her home to you in a few days. But Eunice must see her uncle, Mr.

Winthrop Latham. You will not stand in the way of little Eunice's happiness, I know!" Mollie laid her hand on the old squaw's arm.

But the squaw had bowed her head. She did not notice Mollie.

"It is the end!" The old woman spoke to herself. "I give up my child. The white blood is stronger than the Indian. She will return to the race of her father. Her mother's people shall know her no more."