him this morning. I caught him at Brown's and he will be here this
afternoon. He knows almost as much as an Indian about following a
trail."

They all spoke in the hushed tones one employs in the sick-room. Jack
tried to persuade DeWitt to eat and sleep but he refused, his forced
calm giving way to a hoarse, "For heaven's sake, can I rest when she is
dying out there!"

John had not finished his feverish preparations when Billy Porter
stalked into the living-room. As he entered, the telephone rang and
Jack answered it. Then he returned to the eager group.

"Kut-le has gone on a long hunt with some of his people. They don't
know where he went and refuse to look for him."

Billy Porter gave a hard, mirthless laugh.

"Why certainly! Jack, you ought to have a hole bored into your head to
let in a little light. Kut-le gone. Can't find Rhoda's trail. Kut-le
in love with Rhoda. Kut-le an Indian. Rhoda refuses him--he goes
off--gets some of his chums and when he catches Rhoda alone he steals
her. He will keep a man behind, covering his trail. Oh, you easy
Easterners make me sick!"

The Newmans and DeWitt stood staring at Porter with horror in their
eyes. The clock ticked for an instant then DeWitt gave a groan and
bowed his head against the mantelpiece. Katherine ran to him and tried
to pull his head to her little shoulder.