That of Vance Bernard was written in a bold, masculine hand, showing the writer to be a man of education.
The second letter was addressed in a refined feminine hand, and it was sealed with wax.
"Where did you get this, Owl Eyes?" asked the officer, in some surprise, referring to the second letter.
"Snow Flower see Owl Eyes, and tell him wait at creek. Snow Flower come to creek, and give that to Owl Eyes."
"Ah! I see," and Kit Carey proceeded to read the missive from Snow Flower, as Jennie Bernard was known far and wide among the redskins, Cheyennes, Sioux, and all who passed her father's house, where an Indian was always a welcome guest, far more so it seemed, than a pale-face.
The letter was dated at "Bernard ranch," and was as follows:
"MY DEAR LIEUTENANT CAREY.--Taking advantage of your courier coming to the ranch, with another warning for us to depart, I write to tell you that strange things have happened here since your departure, and I am in the greatest distress, as well as a quandary, as to what to do. I can say no more now. But I am going to seek your advice as one I know I can trust, and rely upon as a friend. Will you come to the spot where you saw me with Red Hatchet, day after to-morrow, at noon, and I will meet you there. If you cannot be there yourself please have one of your Indian couriers there to conduct me to your camp, for I must see you, and delays are dangerous.
"Well, what does this mean?" exclaimed the officer, when he had read the letter.
"'My dear Lieutenant Carey,' it begins, and signed simply 'Jennie.' Well, she's a dangerous-eyed little beauty, and were I not already mortgaged to Violet, I fear her bright eyes would pierce my breast farther than any Indian bullet has done thus far. Bah! I must not be so conceited and let my vanity run away with me, simply because a pretty girl has written me a note urging to see me, doubtless to get me to make another effort to influence that mule of a father of hers to go away from danger. Well, I shall be there at the rendezvous, and it is a coincidence that I am here now in this camp, with all the men I could spare, to stand between her and danger. What if those redskins we saw on the march last night should circle around and strike the Bernard ranch. Yet hardly, for they would have come direct, along the trail we are now camped on. I cannot account for Bernard's strange conduct in not leaving his home. It was infatuation with him, the idea that the Sioux will not harm him or his. But I must seek rest now, as I am nearly dead for sleep," and in five minutes more the young officer was sleeping the sleep of a man with a conscience wholly at ease.