ble that this tumult should become known to the captors of
Tim Brophy. Young Starr expected it, and therefore was not surprised
when he saw the figures of several warriors at the base of the ridge. He
could not forbear swinging his Winchester over his head and taunting
them. They replied with several shots, but the distance was too great
for Warren to feel any alarm. He, too, discharged his gun at the group,
and acted as if he meant to challenge them to come out and attack him.

If such were his intentions, the challenge was accepted. Several
warriors ran out on the prairie, calling to their ponies, in order that
they might mount and take up the pursuit. Their action caused the youth
no alarm, for the test of speed had already been made, and he feared
none of the Indian animals.

The latter may have been under good discipline when their masters were
astride of them, but they showed anything but obedience now that they
were free from their control. They kept trotting about in circles, and
avoided the warriors with a persistency that must have been exasperating
to them.

Only one displayed consideration for his master. He was among the
fleetest, and after some coy dallying he stood still until the athletic
Sioux came beside him. He vaulted upon his back, and then accepted the
seeming challenge of the youth.

The latter had checked his steed at a safe distance on the snowy plain,
and confronted the Indian party. Looking beyond the warrior nearest him,
he strove to catch sight of Tim Brophy; but he was too far off, and the
trees interfered with his vision. Before he could continue the scrutiny
long, the mounted Sioux demanded his attention.

Prudence would have suggested that now, since young Starr was well
mounted, he should take no chances, but scurry away at the top of his
speed, leaving the discomfited warrior to nurse his chagrin over the
clever trick played upon him.

But the young rancher saw no reason why he should flee from a single
buck, no better mounted or armed than himself. He had had enough
experience in the Northwest to understand those people well, and thought
he knew how to take care of himself. No, he would fight him; and now
opened a most extraordinary prairie duel between Warren Starr and his
dusky enemy.

The youth glanced at his Winchester, and saw that it was all right, as
was the case with his revolver. His saddle was firmly cinched in place,
Jack was at his best, and what cared he for a sin