THE SMOKE SIGNAL

When Jean awoke the next morning she was stiff and sore. She longed to
stay there all day and rest. But Kitty informed her that they must
move on at once, for not only were the slashers hot upon their trail,
but that a storm was coming, and they would need better shelter than
their rude brush lean-to could give. In a short time Sam returned and
reported that their pursuers were floundering about in a valley several
miles away. They had evidently lost the trail, and it would take them
some time to find it again.

"Will they keep on following us?" Jean asked.

"A-ha-ha," Sam replied. "Stop bimeby, mebbe. See?" and he laid his
hand upon his musket.

"Will you shoot them?"

"Mebbe. Bimeby."

"Oh, you mustn't!" and Jean shuddered. "That would be murder."

"White man kill Injun all sam' dog. Ugh!"

"Would they?"

"A-ha-ha. Sam know."

"You killed one white man, remember. But you must not kill any more.
Will you promise me?"