he murmured, with tears in his
eyes. "I would give an arm to save you, but it is too late."

He saw that the head of the arrow was sunken deep into the neck, and the
dark coat was splashed with crimson. To attempt to withdraw the missile
was useless. It could only deepen the agony of the animal without
relieving him in the least. He was doomed and dying before he sank to
the ground.

Bruno turned his beautiful eyes upward to his master, emitted a low
moan, gave a slight quiver and gasp, and was dead. No martyr ever did
his duty more heroically.

For a few moments Warren Starr yielded to his grief. He remained with
the exquisitely formed head resting on his arm, while the tears fell
from his eyes on the form that could never respond again to his
caresses. Then he gently withdrew his arm and suffered the head to rest
on the ground.

"Your last act was for those you love," he murmured; "you gave your life
for us, and no man could do more. No one shall take from me the faith
that we shall be happy together beyond the grave. Good-by, my true and
faithful friend."

Young Starr was too experienced a scout, despite his youth, to forget in
his grief the full significance of the sad incident. The hound had
travelled the long distance from the ranch to this point for the purpose
of bringing him a message. He had been discovered while on the road, and
fired upon by the Indians, who were so near that they used bows and
arrows to prevent the young master taking the alarm. Many missiles were
doubtless sent after the animal, and one was fated to bring him down,
though not until he had accomplished his errand.

Warren knew where to look for the message. He unstrapped the collar,
with its silver plate--which he would have done under any circumstance
to keep as a remembrance of his voiceless friend--and there, carefully
folded and secure under the band, was a piece of paper, containing
considerable writing in lead-pencil:

DEAR WARREN:

Don't come to the ranch. It is sure death to undertake it. A party
of twenty and more bucks are near us. They have killed or stampeded
our cattle, and will attack us this evening if we remain, which we
shall not do. Tim discovered them this afternoon, and learned
enough to make sure of their intention. We shall mount our horses
and start for Fort Meade. We dare not use the regular trail, along
which I suppose you are making your way, but must be guided by