ridge, so that on halting he was quite near it. He now turned to his
right, calling upon Jack to follow.

The action of the pony was pitiful. When he bore a part of his weight on
the limb, after the brief halt, it had become so painful as to be almost
useless. Nevertheless he hobbled forward until the foot of the slope was
reached.

Here Warren removed the trappings. His blanket being rolled behind the
saddle, he spread it over the back of the horse and secured it in
place.

"It is all I can do for you, Jack," he said tenderly, "and it will give
you protection against the cold. You will be able to find a few blades
of grass here and there where the snow has not covered them, and the
buds of the trees will give some help. The snow will prevent your
suffering much from want of water. Perhaps a good long rest will improve
your ankle so that you can use it. If it does," and here the young
rancher spoke impressively, as though he expected his steed to
understand his words, "I want you to start for the fort; don't forget
that!"

He touched his lips to the forehead of his faithful ally, who looked
after his young master, as he walked away, with an expression almost
human in its affection. But there was no help for it, and with a sad
heart, but the determination to do his utmost, Warren Starr resumed his
journey toward Fort Meade.

Not long after parting with his pony he came upon something which caused
him surprise. In the snow directly in front appeared the footprints of a
single horse that had passed over the ground on a run, taking the same
direction that the youth was following.

His experience with horses told the youth at a first glance that the
animal was travelling at his utmost speed. The trail swerved inward from
the open plain, as though the rider had sought the base of the ridge for
his protection.

Had there been several ponies coursing ahead of him, he would not have
found it so hard to understand matters, for he would have concluded that
they were an independent party, making all haste to reach some point,
but he could not read the meaning of a single warrior speeding in this
fashion.

"Whoever he was he lost no time," mused Warren, breaking into a loping
trot, for his own haste was great.

Had he not known that poor Jared Plummer was no longer among the living,
he would have thought it possible that he was making for Fort Meade. He
wondered whether it could not be a white man engaged on a similar
e