Miss Sallie sat with her hands tightly clasped, scarcely daring to breathe. She had not dared to hope that her plan would work out so well.

"I do not know the lady," said Naki sullenly. "But the young man was Reginald Latham. He was on the hill the day Eunice was hurt. He went with us to the Indian woman's wigwam. She was angry at his coming." Naki paused.

Mr. Winthrop Latham was frowning and looking down at the pattern of the carpet. Miss Stuart knew he realized that his sister and nephew were playing a double game which, for the time being, he preferred to ignore.

"Good-night, Miss Stuart," said Mr. Latham, a few minutes later. "I shall join you in the morning. If the Indian woman is at Naki's house, I will see her there; if not, I shall go to her wigwam. Notwithstanding all that has happened, she must have satisfactory proofs."

Miss Stuart knew Mr. Latham now suspected that both his sister-in-law and nephew were convinced of Eunice's ident.i.ty.

"Naki," Miss Sallie asked, "at daylight, to-morrow, will you go to the old squaw's wigwam? Tell her that she shall not be punished," continued Miss Stuart. "I am very sorry for her."

Naki was looking at Miss Stuart. His solemn face expressed surprise. "Do you mean you have found out about Eunice?" he asked.

"Certainly, Naki," Miss Stuart rejoined. "If you have known Eunice's story, and have not told it before, you have behaved very badly. Tell the Indian woman to bring what proofs she has to convince Mr. Latham that little Eunice is the child of her daughter."

"I will," Naki promised. "But I knowed of Eunice in another way. There is a man in Stockbridge as knows who the child is. He was a preacher once.

He is part Indian, part white. He was with Eunice's mother when she died.

She told him about the child, but begged him to keep it a secret. The Indian mother did not want the child to go back to the Lathams. She was afraid they would be unkind to her baby. The man told me the story several years ago."

Miss Sallie was deeply interested. "Naki, when you bring the squaw to your house in the morning, go to Stockbridge. Then find the man who knows the story of Eunice, and bring him, too."

"You can count on me," were Naki's last words.

The next morning Miss Stuart and Mr. Latham drove to Naki's home. Neither Naki nor the Indian woman was there!

Naki had left for the wigwam before five o'clock that morning. It was now ten. There was nothing to do but wait.

At eleven o'clock Miss Sallie sent her telegram to Ruth. At noon she and Mr. Latham still waited. There was no sign of Naki or the squaw.

"Don't you think we had better go up to the wigwam?" Mr. Latham asked impatiently.

"We cannot find our way there without Naki or one of my girls," Miss Sallie answered.

"What do you think has happened?" Miss Stuart asked Ceally. Ceally shook her head.

"Something is the matter," she declared, "or Naki would have been here with the old woman hours ago."

What had become of Naki?

At daylight he reached the hilltop, but no sound of life came from the silent tent.

Naki called to the Indian squaw. There was no answer. "I come to bring you news of Eunice!" he shouted. Still no answer.

He stalked inside the wigwam. The tent was deserted. The Indian woman had disappeared.

Naki was puzzled. He searched the woods near the tent.

Half way down the hill Naki came across a small wooden box, half covered with leaves. Naki opened it. In it he found half a dozen pieces of old jewelry, and an old fashioned daguerreotype of an Indian girl holding a baby in her arms.

Naki had been born and brought up in the woods. He kept his eyes turned to the ground, thinking to trace the footprints of Mother Eunice down the hill. On her departure she had, as she thought, buried her box of treasures. Then she had gone--where?

Naki discovered, midway on the hill, two pairs of footprints, which seemed to indicate that two persons had lately started up the hill. But they must have given up and gone down again.

Naki made up his mind to go at once to Stockbridge. Even though he could not trace the squaw, the testimony of the man who had seen Eunice's mother die, the box of jewelry Naki had found--these proofs of Eunice's ident.i.ty would convince even Mr. Winthrop Latham.

Miss Stuart and Mr. Latham were at luncheon when Ceally entered the room.

Miss Sallie knew, at once, something had happened.

"What is it, Ceally?" she asked.

"They have come!" said Ceally.

"Who?" Mr. Latham demanded.

"Naki, the Indian woman, and another man," was Ceally's reply. There was a short pause, and then the two entered.

Naki spoke first. He explained that he had found the Indian woman at Stockbridge when he had given her up for lost. Then she told in her own way that she had made up her mind to return to Stockbridge and ask help from the man who, alone, knew the story of her grandchild's parentage.

The old squaw had completely broken down. She said that she knew that it was best for Eunice to be allowed to come into her inheritance. She said she remembered that Barbara had told her of Mrs. Latham and Reginald's wish to keep Eunice concealed. She finished by telling that midway on the hill, in the early dawn, she had met Reginald Latham and his mother climbing up to her tent. The old squaw, who was wise, had told Mrs.

Latham that there was one man in Stockbridge who could prove who Eunice was and that she would go and implore him to keep the child's parentage a secret. Mrs. Latham and Reginald were delighted, and urged the old woman to go.

Mr. Latham listened quietly to Mother Eunice's story and to that of the man from Stockbridge, who bore the old woman witness.

It was a simple story. The Indian grandmother thought her daughter had been unhappy because of her marriage into the Latham family, believing the girl had been persecuted because of her Indian blood. So she wished to spare her grandchild the same fate.

Mr. Latham was entirely convinced. Eunice was his niece.

"Come," he said, finally, to Miss Stuart. "Let us be off to our girls!"

"Mother Eunice," he said solemnly, shaking the old squaw's hand, "I promise to be good to your child. You shall not be separated from her.

But she must be educated as other girls are. Stay here with Ceally and Naki."

The Indian woman bowed her head. She had given in forever when she surrendered Eunice to "The Automobile Girls" the afternoon before.

But what about Eunice and her protectors? They had not dared to leave the hotel for fear that Aunt Sallie and Mr. Latham might arrive in their absence.

So the girls were waiting with the best patience possible, curled up in the chairs and on the sofa. Barbara was reading aloud. Little Eunice had fallen fast asleep on the bed.

Suddenly Miss Sallie and Mr. Latham walked in unannounced.

"Well, this is a cosy party!" declared Mr. Latham, smiling.

Bab dropped her magazine, Ruth sat up straight in her chair, while Mollie and Grace nearly rolled off their sofa.

Their noise wakened Eunice, who sat up in bed with her cheeks flushed.

Her black hair was ma.s.sed about her face. She wore a red dressing gown that Ruth had bought for her the night before. She was so pretty that Mr.

Latham was moved by her appearance.

But Eunice was frightened when she saw Mr. Latham--he was the man who had stared at her so strangely--he was the man who meant to steal her, so, at least, Reginald Latham had told Eunice. The little girl began to cry softly.