I ain't afraid of him so long as he ain't got his knife." "Well, say," Marcus called to her as she went down stairs, "if he gets funny again, you just yell out; I'LL hear you.

I won't let him hurt you." Marcus went into his room again and resumed his wrangle with the refractory boots.

His eye fell on Zerkow's knife, a long, keen-bladed hunting-knife, with a buckhorn handle.

"I'll take you along with me," he exclaimed, suddenly.

"I'll just need you where I'm going." Meanwhile, old Miss Baker was making tea to calm her nerves after the excitement of Maria's incursion.