A band of Indians who are in a great hurry travel rapidly, even if now and then they leave a worn-out pony behind them. They are also pretty sure to take short cuts and to save distances, and that was more than Cal Evans was able to do.

The Chiricahua scouts with Captain Moore knew every inch of the country, and did not permit the cavalry and cowboys to do any needless travelling.

Late in the forenoon of the third day after Ping's first and last ride upon the "heap pony," all was serenely quiet at Santa Lucia. It was too quiet, altogether, because its inmates were in such blue anxiety that they did not feel like doing anything. Reading was impossible, and any effort at conversation did but repeat the regret that there was no news from Cal or his father. The failure of everything else accounted for the fact that at this hour Vic and her mother were upon the roof, sweeping the horizon with the field-glass.

Suddenly Mrs. Evans held out the glass, exclaiming: "Look! Vic! Cavalry!"

"Oh!" shouted Vic, and in a moment more they were hurrying down and out of the hacienda.

A roll of the prairie had hidden the approach of a column of mounted men until they were pretty near, and now all who wore uniform and a number of others halted at a hundred yards from the stockade gate at which Mrs. Evans and Vic were standing. One man dismounted and walked forward, leading by the hand a strangely dressed but comely-looking Indian girl. His face was flushed and troubled, and the eyes of the girl glanced timidly in all directions, as if seeking a means of escape from meeting those two pale-face squaws.

"Husband!" exclaimed Mrs. Evans, turning very pale, "where is Cal?"

"Cal!" echoed Vic, with painful eagerness.

"He is a prisoner," faltered the colonel.

"Father!" almost screamed Vic. "The Apaches have got him?"

"The same band that took the horses, and that this girl belongs to. Vic, this is Tah-nu-nu. We shall hear from Cal."

It was dreadful news, and it was not possible to hear it calmly, but Captain Moore now rode up and so did Sam Herrick. They had wished that first meeting over, and the report of Cal's captivity made without their being too near. Mrs. Evans managed to maintain her dignity fairly well to receive them, but they found Vic in an uncontrollable fit of crying.

"Vic," said her father, "don't cry. Cal will surely come back soon, safe and sound. Take Tah-nu-nu into the house."

At that moment they were all startled by a burst of cheering from the mounted men. Cheer followed cheer, and as the group at the gate turned to look, they saw a rider who dashed past the cavalry at full gallop. He was swinging his hat tremendously, but seemed unable to hurrah.

"Colorado!" shouted Sam Herrick. "Cal and the red mustang!"

After that nobody could have told what was said by anybody during a full three minutes. Then there came a sort of breathing-spell that was almost silence. They had begun to walk towards the house, and Vic was leading Tah-nu-nu a little in advance of the rest.

"How did you say you managed to get away from Kah-go-mish?" asked Captain Moore.

"It's a pretty long story," said Cal, "but there isn't any Kah-go-mish. He was killed in a fight with the Mexicans."

"Did Ping get in before you left them?" asked Colonel Evans.

"Yes, he did, father. I felt real bad about that. Such a young fellow. Not any older than I am."

"Killed, was he? Colorado! I'm sorry," exclaimed Sam Herrick.

The leading features of Cal's capture and escape had already been told, but they were now gone over more minutely, and it was determined not at once to tell Tah-nu-nu.

"I must think the matter over," said Mrs. Evans.

"Poor little thing!"

That was what Vic said, but she took Tah-nu-nu to her own room, and the shy, frightened look of the lonely Indian girl began to turn into one of relief, but also of intense curiosity. She saw nothing but friendliness in the face of Vic, and at last she remarked: "Tah-nu-nu glad Heap Pony get away."

Vic could laugh heartily at that, and she was joined by Tah-nu-nu when the chief's daughter discovered what was next expected of her. She rebelled stoutly at first, but Vic was determined to have her own way, and when they came out again Tah-nu-nu was too proud and shy to utter a word. She wanted to run away and hide, and yet she wished to be seen in her new outfit, for Vic had put upon her a dress which she herself had refused to wear because it was too brightly gay for her sense of dignity. Tah-nu-nu had very pretty moccasins of her own, and now, with white metal ornaments at her throat and upon her wrists, and with a bright ribbon in her coal-black hair, she was the best-dressed girl of the Mescalero Apaches.

It seemed too bad to tell her any saddening news then, and during all the rest of that day Tah-nu-nu was treated as an Indian gentleman's daughter on a visit to Santa Lucia.

It was a great day for Tah-nu-nu, and Norah McLory and the Mexican servants were explaining to her the wonders of the kitchen during the long time spent by Cal in telling the minute particulars of his adventures in the Cold Spring chaparral and in Mexico. His mother and Vic seemed disposed to keep their hands upon him, from the beginning to the end of his story, as if for fear that he might again be lost or captured.

Captain Moore and his cavalry camped near Santa Lucia that night, and marched away early in the morning.Tah-nu-nu awoke in a pale-face bed, in a great lodge, such as she had seen before but never entered, and she hardly felt like a prisoner.

"Kah-go-mish is a great chief," she said, for her first thought was of his coming for her release.

An hour or two later she and Vic and Cal took a long horseback ride, and once more Tah-nu-nu admired the "heap pony." She was beginning to feel very much at ease, especially with Cal, for he had been acquainted with her family.

They had been back at the ranch but a short time when Sam Herrick came in and beckoned to Colonel Evans.

"What is it, Sam?"

"Colorado!" exclaimed Sam. "There's an Indian and a squaw come. The red mustang was out there, and the Indian whooped when he sot eyes onto him. They want to see Pull Stick."

"That's my name!" shouted Cal, and he sprang up and hurried out.

He was followed by everybody but Tah-nu-nu, and in a moment he was shaking hands with Crooked Nose and Wah-wah-o-be.

Their errand was briefly given. The whole band, what was left of it, had decided to return to the Reservation. They knew that in order to do so safely they must give up the Santa Lucia horses, and they had sent Wah-wah-o-be to say that they were ready to do it. What they did not add was that they were rich enough with the other quadrupeds won by Kah-go-mish in his successful war with Mexico. They wished to have word sent to the blue-coats. Nobody need follow them, and the horses belonging to Colonel Evans would be delivered next day, with two good Mexican mules to pay for his cattle. It was a capital bargain for him, and reduced his loss to a low figure. He agreed to it at once, and then Wah-wah-o-be asked for Tah-nu-nu.

"We are going to keep her," said Mrs. Evans. "We will keep you, too, if you will come. You need not go to the Reservation."

Wah-wah-o-be's blanket came up over her head, and her loud, wailing cry was heard in the adobe. In a moment more Tah-nu-nu's arms were around her mother, and she knew that she should never again see Kah-go-mish or The-boy-whose-ear-pushed-away-a-piece-of-lead.

Down upon the ground they sat, the great chief's wife and daughter, and it was hours before they could be persuaded to speak or to come into the house. When they at last did so, the mind of Wah-wah-o-be was made up. Kah-go-mish had declared that he would never return to the Reservation. Whatever others might do, therefore, she would not. Her proud position in her band was also gone, with her wise, brave husband and her promising son. She was ready to consent that Tah-nu-nu should remain at Santa Lucia. She would herself come back and bring her property with her.

Tah-nu-nu would hardly have consented if it had not been for the positive commands of her mother, and if these had not been helped by her wonderful new dress and by the urgency of Vic. She roundly declared, however, that she would never hoe corn.

Crooked Nose had very little to say after his first errand was completed, but just before he rode away he led Cal a little to one side. They were out in front of the adobe, and Dick was standing near them, unsaddled, unbridled, very much as if he were a house-dog, with a right to step around anywhere.

"Ugh!" said Crooked Nose. "Pull Stick get away again. How?"

"Heap Pony," said Cal, pointing to the red mustang.

"Ugh!" said Crooked Nose. "Who kill Tan-tan-e-o-tan."

"Heap Pony," replied Cal again.

"Ugh! Heap bad medicine. No like him. Pull Stick got manitou."

Something like that, in a higher and better form, was what Cal's mother had been telling him. She also declared that she meant to do all in her power for the squaw who brought Cal his gourd of water when he was all but dying of thirst, and for her bright-eyed daughter. Something very good was, therefore, in store for Tah-nu-nu. Perhaps it was something which Ping could not or would not have taken.

Wah-wah-o-be kept her word, and when she returned she brought quite a drove of horses, mules, and ponies with her, as the property of Kah-go-mish, and Colonel Romero was not there to identify any of them. Cal did not know one from another, whether they were Apache bred or Mexican, and he said so.There was really but one horse in the world that he cared much about. In fact, not only he and his family, but the cowboys and Wah-wah-o-be and Tah-nu-nu were disposed to attach an almost human idea to the uncommon qualities of head and heart which had been displayed by the red mustang.