It was late in the afternoon of a sultry August day that our poor travellers, footsore and weary, reached a great cattle ranch in Texas, owned and occupied by a family of the name of Baird, who had emigrated from Ohio years before.

Their large, comfortable house, separated from the road by a wide, grassy yard and flower-garden, was the first civilized dwelling Rupert and Juanita had seen since their capture by the Indians, and their pulses quickened with joy at the sight.

Mrs. Baird was getting supper for her husband and sons, all of whom were in the field with the cattle. Turning from the fire where she was broiling chickens, baking biscuit, and frying potatoes, she caught sight of two forlorn figures coming up the garden path.

"Injuns!" she cried aloud, as, pale and breathless with fright, she looked this way and that for some weapon of defence, "and me here alone!"

But a second glance reassured her. They were nearing the open door, and she could see not only that they were whites, but that there was nothing sinister or fierce in the expression of the man's face, while that of the young girl, though pale and travel-stained, was winsome and even beautiful.

She stepped forward with a cordial "How d'ye do? Walk in, and sit down, and rest, for you are dreadfully tired, I know," setting out some chairs as she spoke.

"Thank you, madam; indeed we are," Rupert replied, lifting his hat with a courtly bow.

But as they crossed the threshold Juanita staggered, and would have fallen had not he caught her in his arms.

"Oh, my darling, my darling!" he cried in tones of acute distress, "have food and rest come too late for you?"

"Food and rest?" repeated Mrs. Baird, greatly shocked, "is she starved? Here, lay her down quick on the lounge in the sitting-room, and I'll bring her a glass of milk at once; 'twont take me a minute to get it."

With a word of thanks Rupert followed the good woman's directions, and had scarcely done so ere she was at his side with the milk.

He raised Juanita's head. Mrs. Baird held the glass to her lips, and noted, with tears of mingled joy and compassion, the eagerness with which it was swallowed.

Then a sudden thought sent her flying from the room to return immediately with a pitcher, from which she filled the glasses again and again, first for Juanita, then for Rupert.

"Now," she said, when her pitcher was empty, "you shall both have a good hearty supper in about ten minutes. If you'd like to wash off the dust first, you'll find soap, water, and towels handy out there on the porch. Now I must leave you, or my supper will be all spoiled."

"O Rupert, how good and kind she is!" whispered Juanita, with tears in her eyes, as their hostess left them alone together, "and she could never suppose from our appearance that we have anything to pay with."

"No; she must be a truly benevolent woman, and a Christian one also, I think; and truly we have great reason to thank our heavenly Father for bringing us to such an one in our sore need," said Rupert, adding, as Juanita made a movement as if to rise, "Lie still, love; I will bring a basin of water to you."

"Please do," she answered, lying down again; "a wash will be very refreshing. Ah, if one only had some clean clothes to put on!"

"That desire also shall be granted before long, my darling," Rupert answered between a tear and a smile, glancing down rather ruefully at the worn and soiled garments of his pretty young wife.

He had shielded her as far as possible from the hardnesses of their terrible journey, yet he knew that her sufferings had been great—so great that his kind, loving heart bled at the very thought of them.

She had beautiful hair, very fine, soft, glossy and black as the raven's wing; very long and luxuriant too; when unconfined falling in a great mass of ringlets below her waist.

Rupert was very proud of it, as well as of her regular and delicate features, her starry eyes, sylphlike form, and graceful movements.

At present she wore her hair in a great coil at the back of her shapely head, held in place by a wooden pin that he had made for her.

"May I take this down and comb it out for you?" he asked, laying his hand caressingly upon it. "But perhaps it would tire you too much."

"Oh no, it would rather be a refreshment," she answered, smiling up at him, "and I shall be much obliged."

So he did, then brought her the water to lave her hands and face.

Meanwhile Mrs. Baird, busy with her preparations for the evening meal, was full of curiosity in regard to her unexpected guests. "Who can they be?" she questioned with herself, "and where in the world did they come from? It's as plain as day that he's a gentleman and she a lady; they look it in spite of their odd, shabby dress; and they speak good, pure English in refined tones, though she has a little foreign accent. She looks Spanish, but he's an American; I'm sure of that. Shouldn't wonder if he's from my own State—from that section anyway, for he's neither a New Englander nor a Southerner. But their dress—why, it's nearer Injun than anything else; well, now I wonder—" and hurrying to the sitting-room door she addressed Rupert:

"If you please, sir, I'd like to ask a question. Have you been among the Injuns?"

"Yes," he said; "we escaped about three months ago from an Apache village, where we had been prisoners for three years."

"Dear me! how dreadful! And that must have been a long way off; how did you ever get here?"

"Yes, it must be hundreds of miles, and we have walked all the way."

"Oh you poor things!" she cried, the tears coursing down her cheeks; "no wonder you're completely worn out. Your sufferings must have been dreadful."

"They have not been small," Rupert said, with emotion, his glance resting pityingly for an instant upon Juanita's wan features; "but as our days, our strength has been, for God is faithful to His promises. And now," he added, with a brightening countenance, "the worst is all over, I trust."

"Yes, indeed; you must stay here till you're quite rested," she said, with cordial hospitality. "And as soon as there's a good chance I'd like to hear your whole story. It can't fail to be interesting."

Turning hastily away with the last word, she seized a tin horn, and going to the back door blew a vigorous blast.

Her husband, three stalwart sons grown to man's estate, and a slender lad of twelve, the youngest and therefore the family pet, came hurrying from the field in answer to the summons.

The wife and mother met them at the threshold, her still fresh and comely face full of excitement. "We have guests," she said.

"Who on earth, mother?" ejaculated Joe, the eldest son, while his father remarked, "They're welcome, whoever they are, if they're honest, decent folks."

"That I'll engage they are!" she answered, "though their clothes are shabby enough; but they're escaped captives from the Apaches; have been travelling through the wilderness for months on foot, and of course are in a very bad plight."

Her announcement was met by various exclamations of surprise and commiseration, according to the characters and dispositions of the speakers.

"Yes," she said, "and of course, father, we'll keep them here till they're rested, poor things, and then help them on their way to their friends, if they have any."

"Of course, of course, wife," answered the man of the house, cheerily. "But where are they?"

"In the sitting-room. Go in and speak to them, won't you? and ask them out to supper; it's just ready."

"I'll do that!" he said, hanging up the towel he had been using.

In another minute he was shaking hands cordially with Rupert, while congratulating him on his escape from the Indians, and assuring him and Juanita of their welcome to the hospitalities of the ranch as long as they might be pleased to accept them. "No obligations, young man," he said, interrupting Rupert's expression of thanks; "you'd do the same for me if our situations were reversed; and besides, any decent stranger is a godsend in these lonely parts; and the cost of entertaining, where you have everything on your place and no market for it, is just about nothing. Come, walk out to supper," he added; "it's on the table, and best while it's hot."

He led the way, and they followed right willingly, for the smell of the viands was extremely appetizing, and the milk had by no means appeased their hunger.

Mrs. Baird greeted them with a smile, pointed out their seats, and with an inclination of the head toward the younger members of the family, said, "My sons, Mr——"

"Keith," supplied Rupert, as she paused with an inquiring look at him; "Rupert Keith is my name, and this young lady," glancing at Juanita, "is—"

There was an instant's hesitation, then he added, "my wife," coloring slightly as he spoke.

He was conscious of a furtive exchange of wondering, inquiring glances among his entertainers, but no remark was made.

They all sat down to the table, the father asked a blessing upon the food, and the meal began.

Presently Rupert said, with a frank look into the face of his host, "I must ask to be permitted to explain my hesitation of a moment ago.

"Juanita and I have been fellow-captives among the Apaches. They carried her off in a raid into Mexico—her native land. Me they captured on my way from Indiana to California, and we made our acquaintance in the Indian village.

"It was not long before we became lovers, but there was no one there to unite us in marriage. Just previous to making our escape we married ourselves by Friends' ceremony, as the best we could do; but having had no witnesses, we do not feel quite satisfied that the knot has been tied as tightly as it ought to be (the reason of my hesitation to claim her as fully mine)," he put in parenthetically and with a look and smile of ardent affection directed to his bride, "and as soon as we can come across a minister we will get him to tighten it," he concluded, with a half-sportive look and tone. Then, more gravely, "Is there one in this neighborhood?" he inquired.

All present had listened with evident interest to his explanation; the father of the family now answered, "None very near, but there's a Methodist minister of the name of Clark, who passes here every other Sunday on his way to a school-house six miles beyond, where he preaches. He generally takes his dinner here, and that will be a good chance for you, if you can wait for it."

"'Twon't be so long, father," remarked his wife, cheerily; "this is Friday, and next Sunday is Mr. Clark's day."

"Why, to be sure, so it is!" ejaculated her spouse, turning a beaming face upon Rupert and Juanita.

"We can wait," Juanita said in her liquid tones, speaking for the first time since she had sat down to the table. "I am but poorly prepared so far as regards my dress," she added, with blushing cheek and a shy, downward glance at her forlorn attire.

Rupert gave her a tenderly sympathizing look, then turning to their host asked, "Is there any place within reach where clothing may be procured? I have means to pay for it, and we are both, as you see, sorely in need of it."

"The nearest place is twenty miles away, and it's none of the best," was the discouraging reply. "However, we'll see what can be done; Joe can drive you over to-morrow, if you feel like taking the trip; but I should think you'd better rest a few days first."

"Yes, indeed, I should think so," chimed in Mrs. Baird; "and Joe can lend him a suit to be married in (they look to be pretty near of a size), and I'll find something for the young lady."

"Certainly, certainly!" assented Joe with ready cordiality and a kindly look at Rupert, who was beaming with joy and gratitude.

"You are all exceedingly kind," he said with emotion.

And truly he and Juanita looked in need of such kindly offices. They were dressed almost exactly alike—in full suits of deerskin, moccasins, leggings, and a long loose shirt belted in at the waist; all much worn and soiled with months of constant wear and the dust of travel. On their arrival each had worn a broad-brimmed hat woven by Juanita's deft fingers.

Their entertainers, though eager to hear the story of their captivity and subsequent wanderings, kindly refrained from questioning them till their appetites had been fully satisfied.

At the conclusion of the meal Juanita was made to lie down again, Mrs. Baird insisting that she must be altogether too tired to sit up; Rupert was given an arm-chair, and all the family gathered round him to listen to a lengthened narrative of his experiences from the time of his capture to the present.

Some passages were so moving that there was not a dry eye in the room, and tender-hearted Mrs. Baird sobbed aloud.

When the story seemed to have come to an end she started up, saying, "Dear me! I've left my dishes standing all this while!" and hastily left the room.

Her husband and sons remained, and plied Rupert with questions.

"What have you done with your gun?" asked Ralph, the youngest. "You said you had one that you stole back from that old Wildcat, but I haven't noticed it anywhere round."

"No," Rupert said; "when we came in sight of this house I felt safe in getting rid of the burden of carrying it for a while. Our blankets too; we were so tired and the sun so hot, that they seemed an almost intolerable load, so I hid them in a clump of bushes a little off the roadside, where I knew I could easily find them again."

"That was wise," remarked his host; "we will go for them in the morning."

"Did that old Wildcat and the rest chase after you?" queried Ralph.

"Indeed, my little man, I do not know," replied Rupert. "If so, it was when it was too late for them to overtake us."

"I think you managed splendidly," remarked Tom, the second son.

"I think God helped and took care of us," Rupert said, with reverent gratitude.

"And there you are right," said his host. "'Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.'"

"Words of inspiration," Rupert said, recognizing them with a smile of glad content. "I perceive that we are fellow-servants of the same divine Master, and much I thank Him for bringing me to the house of one of His followers for a short season of rest."

"And most welcome you are, sir, especially as belonging to Him," returned Mr. Baird, heartily; "'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.' Those words of His make it a double delight to do any kindness to one of His disciples."

All this time Juanita had been soundly sleeping; her head had scarcely touched the pillow ere she was lost to all that was going on about her.

Mrs. Baird, coming in again, noticed that Rupert seemed very weary.

"You are making Mr. Keith talk too much," she said to the others. "He's fairly tired out, and ought to be sleeping this minute. I'll make up a bed directly for you, and one for her," she added, addressing Rupert, and glancing toward Juanita with the last words.

"Oh no, do not give yourself the trouble," he hastened to say; "I doubt if either of us could sleep in a bed after being so long used to nothing softer than a bear or buffalo skin spread upon the ground."

Mrs. Baird gave him a puzzled look. "What can I do for you then?" she asked.

"Give me an old quilt or something of the kind, if you have one conveniently at hand, and I will lie on the floor here."

"Yes; I'll get you a quilt and a couple of buffalo robes," she said, "though I'd rather give you a good bed. I may make up one for her, mayn't I?"

Rupert smiled, and with a loving glance at Juanita said, "I really think she would prefer to stay where she is till to-morrow morning. She will probably sleep on till then without moving or so much as opening an eye, she is so very weary, poor thing!"

"And," with a little doubtful hesitation, "you wouldn't rather have separate rooms? I have plenty of them."

"No; she is my wife, and we have been together night and day ever since our escape from captivity; and she has slept close at my side or in my arms. How could I have it otherwise, with the growl of the bear, the savage howl of the wolf, or the scream of the wildcat in our ears, to say nothing of constant danger from roving bands of Indians?"

"Sure enough, sir; and she is your wife! Well, it shall be just as you wish, though it does seem like treating you both very inhospitably."

"Not at all, my dear madam. In fact, neither of us would be willing to get into one of your nice clean beds without a bath and change of raiment, which we cannot have at present."

"Why, yes you can, of course," put in Joe; "we have a bath-room, and I'll supply you with a change of clothes, without waiting for the Rev. Mr. Clark's coming," he added, with a good-humored laugh.

"And I'll do the same by your wife to-morrow morning," said the mother, as she hurried away in search of the quilt.

She kept her word, and Juanita appeared at the breakfast-table very agreeably metamorphosed by civilized garments, though the calico dress was a little faded, and had to be belted in about the waist because it was several sizes too large.

But no attire, however uncouth, could hide the gracefulness of her form and movements, or mar the beauty of her face.

"They won't come anywhere near fitting, you are so much more slender than I am," Mrs. Baird had remarked when offering them, "but at least they are sweet and clean as soap and water can make them."

"The best possible recommendation, dear lady," Juanita answered, with a joyous smile. "Oh, you do not know how glad I shall be to be clean once more! You could only learn by living in a wigwam for three years and then travelling through the woods and over the mountains and prairies in the one suit, wearing it day and night."

"A great deal more than I should be willing to pay for the knowledge," returned her hostess between a smile and a tear. "You poor young thing! What a fearful time you must have had!"

Rupert's appearance had undergone quite as great an improvement as Juanita's, and they exchanged many admiring glances during the meal.

Afterward, when they found themselves alone together for a moment, "How lovely you are this morning, my darling!" exclaimed Rupert, catching Juanita in his arms and giving her a rapturous embrace.

"You too," she said, laying one small hand on each of his broad shoulders and gazing fondly up into his face.

"It's the clothes—altogether the clothes in my case, I fear," he returned, half laughingly; "savage attire is none too becoming to me."

"Nor to me," she responded; "it's the change of dress with me as well as with you. But oh, my Rupert, I have always thought you the handsomest of men, even in savage attire!"

"Little flatterer!" he said, laughing and pinching her cheek, yet evidently not ill pleased with the compliment. "That dress is extremely becoming; really you are positively bewitching in it."

"Ah, who is the flatterer now?" she cried, clapping her hands and laughing gleefully.

Ralph looked in at the door. "Mr. Keith, father says would you like to come and look at some of our fine cattle, if you are not too tired?"

"Yes, indeed I should, thank you," Rupert answered, letting go of Juanita to follow the boy, but turning back again to kiss her good-by and bid her take all the rest she could.

"Thanks, seÑor," she returned gayly, "but I feel quite fresh this morning, and I must see if I cannot give a little help to our kind hostess. She seems to have no servant, and our presence here must add to her labors."

"Quite right," he said, with an approving smile, "but do not overtax your strength."

Mrs. Baird was not in the kitchen, where Juanita expected to find her, but hearing the light step of the latter, called to her from an inner room.

"Come here, my dear," she said, "and tell me what you think of this."

It was a white dress of fine cambric muslin, its skirt, waist, and sleeves elaborately trimmed with tiny tucks, embroidery, and lace. Mrs. Baird held it up to view, repeating her query, "What do you think of this?"

"That it is very pretty," Juanita answered, examining it closely. "What beautifully fine needlework."

"Yes; it's a dress I had when I was married," remarked Mrs. Baird. "I was a bit of a slender girl then, as you are now. I never wore it much, and after a while I grew too stout for it. I thought of it last night when considering what could be found for you to wear to-morrow, so I've just been rummaging through these bureau drawers in search of it.

"Of course it must be very old-fashioned, and it's very yellow with lying by so long; but there won't be anybody here that knows about the fashions, or will mind that it isn't as white as it should be. So if you are willing to wear it just try it on to see if it comes anywhere near fitting, and if it does I'll have it in the washtub in a trice; and I really think it won't look so badly when I'm done with it."

"How very kind you are, dear lady!" exclaimed Juanita, catching Mrs. Baird's hand and kissing it, her face all aglow with delight and gratitude. "It is lovely! and I shall not care at all for the fashion or for a little yellowness, which will make the lace look all the richer."

"Then put it on, my dear," Mrs. Baird said, smilingly; "and you need not feel over-burdened with gratitude for so small a favor."

It proved not a bad fit, and both thought would do extremely well without alteration.

"Now if you only had a decent pair of shoes," remarked Mrs. Baird reflectively; "but those I'm afraid I can't supply, for any of mine would be a mile too large for that pretty little foot of yours."

"Ah! which would you advise, dear lady, bare feet or these?" Juanita asked, with a rueful laugh and a downward glance at her worn and soiled moccasins.

"Moccasins!" exclaimed Mrs. Baird, struck by a sudden thought. "You've been so long among the Injuns, have you learned to make them, and could you make yourself a pair if you had the materials?"

"Yes, indeed!" was the eager rejoinder, "for myself and Rupert too."

"Then you shall have them," said the good woman, beginning to rummage again among her stores. "I have a nice soft doeskin that will be just the thing. Ah, here it is!" pulling it down from a high closet shelf; "and I have some colored silks you can have for embroidering with if you like."

"Thank you, oh a thousand thanks!" Juanita said, "but the skin is all I want; I prefer the moccasins plain for this occasion, especially as I can make them up so much more quickly. But may I not first help you with your work? I can wash dishes, and sweep, and dust, and make beds."

"No, no, my dear!" Mrs. Baird said, in her bright, cheery way; "you shall do nothing of the kind. It is very kind and thoughtful—your offering to do it—but I really don't need help, and you must sit right down to those moccasins. If you like to sit in the kitchen while I'm busy there, I'll be very glad of your company."

Before sunset Juanita's bridal attire was quite ready, and she exhibited it to Rupert's admiring eyes with perhaps as much pride and satisfaction as a city belle might have taken in her silks and satins.

"Mrs. Baird says the dress is old-fashioned and not a good color—" began Juanita.

"But what difference does that make, my sweet?" interrupted Rupert; "who of us will know the difference? And I am sure you will look very lovely, at least in the bridegroom's eyes, and in fact will be better dressed than he," he added gayly. "I hope you won't be ashamed of him."

"Never, never! but proud, very proud!" she cried, throwing an arm about his neck and laying her head on his breast.

"Not prouder than I of my bride," he said softly, caressing her tenderly.

They were interrupted by the call to supper, and scarcely had the meal begun when a horseman rode up to the gate, dismounted, fastened his horse as if quite at home, then came hurrying up the path toward the open door.

There was a simultaneous exclamation from several voices, "Why, there's Mr. Clark," and the whole family rose to greet him with a hearty handshake and words of welcome.

Then Rupert and Juanita were introduced, another plate was added to the table, a chair set up for the new arrival, and he warmly invited to share their meal.

He was not slow to accept the invitation, and did ample justice to the viands, praising them without stint as he ate.

"You're the best cook in the county, by all odds, Mrs. Baird; but the Ohio ladies are very apt to understand the business; I don't believe there's a State in the Union can beat Ohio at that."

"I agree with you there, sir," remarked Rupert. "But I have observed that a man is very apt to think nobody else's cooking quite equal to that of his own mother—a fact partly to be accounted for by the other, that children's appetites are usually keen and their digestion good. There is a great deal of truth in the old saying that hunger is the best sauce."

"Was your mother a native of Ohio, Mr. Keith?" asked Mrs. Baird, with a look of interest.

"Yes, madam, my father also; all their children were born there too, so that we are a family of Buckeyes," he concluded, with sportive look and tone.

"I thought so!" she exclaimed emphatically; "the first hour you were in the house I said to myself, I shouldn't wonder if he were from my own State of Ohio."

"But I thought I heard you say you came from Indiana, Mr. Keith," spoke up Ralph.

"So I did," returned Rupert, pleasantly; "we removed to that State some years ago."

"Fine States both," remarked Mr. Clark. "I've lived in both, and ought to know. Now confess, Mrs. Baird, that you are wondering what brought me here to-day."

"To be ready for preaching to-morrow, I presume," she answered dryly; "but why should I be wondering more than the rest?"

"Oh, woman's curiosity, you know, if you'll excuse the jest; for I really don't believe you're one bit more curious about it than anybody else here. Well, I had a funeral to attend this morning some six or seven miles from this, and then two or three sick folks to visit a little nearer here, and I thought it wouldn't be worth while to go back home before Monday. You see, I always feel sure of a welcome at Baird's Ranch."

"That's right; you need never have the least doubt of it," said his host. "And we are particularly glad to see you this time, because there's a job waiting for you here."

"Indeed!" cried the minister, elevating his eyebrows in surprise; "and what may it be? Has one of these fine boys of yours selected a wife, and is he wanting me to tie the knot?"

"Ah, your guess is not very wide of the mark," laughed Mr. Baird, "though the wedding will not be exactly in the family."

"There, father, that will do for the present," remarked his wife, perceiving that Juanita was blushing in a slightly embarrassed way; "we have the whole evening before us, and it won't take long to make all the necessary arrangements."

"You have not been long in this part of the country I presume, sir?" Mr. Clark said, inquiringly, addressing Rupert.

"I arrived only yesterday, sir," was the reply.

"Direct from Indiana?"

"No, sir, direct from the Apache country, where I have been a prisoner for three years."

"Is it possible, sir! You must have had a dreadful experience."

And then questions and answers followed in rapid succession, Mr. Clark almost forgetting to eat in the intense interest he felt in the story Rupert and Juanita had to tell; for learning from something said by one of the family that she had shared Rupert's captivity, he catechised her also quite closely.

He was captivated by her beauty and her modest, sensible replies, and being presently able to make a shrewd conjecture as to who were to claim his services that evening, thought Rupert a very fortunate man.