He gave in directly.  Indeed the cat, a large, powerful animal, had almost scratched his eyes out.  In the most abject tones the fellow implored me to let him go.

“Don’t you do it, mamma,” said the Panther, faintly.

“I don’t mean to,” I said.

Under the kitchen stairs was a dark closet with a strong outside bolt.  I ordered the man into this place.  He obeyed, and I drew the bolt upon him.  His face and throat were streaming with blood from Tom’s teeth and claws.

All this passed in much less time than it takes to tell it.  Roused by the noise, the children, and Minny with the baby in her arms, were already in the kitchen.

“Oh, my dear, my poor darling!” said Minny, kneeling by the old man’s side, “you are hurt!”

“Yes,” he said, quietly, “pretty considerable bad.  Charley, you fasten that door;” for the door into the shed, which had been secured only by a button, was wide open.  “You get the hammer and two, three big nails, and drive ’em in,” he continued.  “Maybe more them darn scamps round.”

Charley obeyed directions in a way which did him credit.  Little Ned, with wide, surprised eyes, clung to me in silence; little Carry, seeing her mother in tears, put up a piteous lip and sobbed in her unbaby-like, sorrowful fashion; the old cat, in great excitement, went purring and talking from one to another.

“Tell me where you are hurt,” I said, holding the chief’s hand.

He had been shot through the stomach with a great, old-fashioned smooth-bore musket, which lay on the floor—­a gun not carrying less than twenty-five to the pound.  I had seen gunshot wounds before, and I knew that this was serious.  It did not bleed much externally, but the edges of the wound were torn and discolored.

“That fellow dead?” asked the Panther.

“Yes indeed!” for the man’s head was split like a walnut.

The old warrior looked gratified.  “Mamma,” he said, touching his hunting-knife, “you take that fellow’s scalp.”

“Don’t think of such a thing,” I said, not so much shocked as I might have been had I not lived on the Indian frontier.  “Do you know who they are?”

“See them to Ryan’s.  Guess they some folks that mizzable railroad bring into this country.  ’Spect they follow me.  Mamma,” said the Panther, looking up into my face, “tell you, red fox not bark for nothing.  Better be old man than you.”

“Oh, my dear old friend, if you had only not come to us to-night!  It was all your love for us that has done this, but I pray God you may get well.  Charley, do you think you can go for Doctor Beach?”

“Yes, mamma,” said the boy, though he turned pale.

“No, no,” said the Panther.  “You no send that little fellow out in the dark.  Besides, no good.  You go wrap yourselves up.  You two, you git bad cold.”

At that moment we heard the sound of wheels and horses’ feet.

“Go, Charley,” said Minny.  “Stop whoever it is, and tell them what has happened.”