ng ways and kind
words.

He remarked on his last visit, some weeks before, that he was likely to
remain some time with his people, and possibly would not return again
to the East. Many things were more unlikely than that he would be
carried away by the craze that was affecting his tribe, and become one
of the most ferocious foes of the Caucasian race.

"Tim," said Mr. Starr, turning to the Irishman, "did you notice whether
he was among the group you saw?"

"I didn't observe him, but they were fixed out in war-paint and toggery
so that I wouldn't have knowed the gintleman onless I was inthrodooced
to the same. Thin, too, he might have been one of the spalpeens who were
stampeding the cattle."

"Well, there's no use in thinking of that; we must take the chances; the
Sioux will find out what course we follow without asking anyone to
translate this message for them."

Mrs. Starr caught the arm of her husband, and as he turned he noticed
that her face was pale with emotion.

"What is it, wife?" he asked in alarm.

"Warren," she replied in a whisper.

"What about him?"

"This is the day he said he would leave the fort for home; he must be on
the way now; unless he is warned he will ride to his death without
suspecting it."

The father forgot their own danger for the moment in his alarm for his
son. It took but a few minutes to act upon the plan of which the reader
has learned long since. Another letter was pencilled and secured to the
collar of Bruno, whose instructions were so minute that they would have
been ludicrous, but for their warrant in the wonderful intelligence of
the animal. The hound sped away like an arrow from the bow, and the
faithfulness with which he did his work need not be retold.

There was no call for further delay. Mr. Starr mounted his fine animal,
armed with Winchester and revolver, after he had assisted his wife upon
another horse and placed Dot in front of her. The mother was a superior
horsewoman, and this arrangement was intended to leave the husband free
to act without hinderance, in the event of an emergency. Tim Brophy was
equally at liberty, and with the pack animal well laden the party left
the home, each oppressed by a great fear that they would not only never
look upon it again, but would probably be struck down before reaching
the nearest point of safety, many miles away, at the base of the Black
Hills.

More than one eye anxiously turned toward the elevation, beyond which