t length.

"They quarreled back there. Either the Dogs have Gail, or he's lost
somewhere. The Kiowas are waiting for something. I can't quite
understand, but we'll go on."

It was mid-afternoon and the two riders were faint from the hardship of
the chase, but nobody who knew Jondo ever expected him to give up. The
sun blazed down in the heat of the late afternoon, and the baking earth
lay brown and dry beneath the heat-quivering air. There was no sound
nor motion on the plains as the two faithful brothers--in
purpose--followed hard on the track of the Dog Indian band.

Ahead of them the trail grew clearer until they saw the object of their
chase, a band nearly a hundred strong, riding slowly, far ahead. Jondo
and Bill halted and dropped to the ground. No cover was in sight, but if
the Indians were unsuspicious they might not be discovered. On went the
outlaw band, and the two white men followed after. Suddenly the Indians
halted and grouped themselves together. The plainsmen watched eagerly
for the cause. Out of the south six Indians came riding swiftly into
view. They, too, halted, but neither group seemed aware that the two
dull, motionless spots to the west were two white men watching them.
White men didn't belong there.

The six rode forward. There was much parleying and pointing eastward.
Then the six rode rapidly northward and the Dog band spurted east as
rapidly.

Jondo looked at Bill.

"I see it clear as day. God help us not to be too late!" he cried,
triumphantly, leaping to his saddle.

"What in Heaven's name to you see?" Bill asked eagerly.

"Gail wasn't with the Kiowas back there. He wasn't with the Dogs out
yonder. Don't you remember he told us about six of the devils getting
him in their friendly camp that morning? Yonder go the six. They have
left Gail somewhere to die and they are cutting back to join the tribe.
They have sent the Dogs on east. We'll run down this trail to the south.
Hurry, Bill! For God's sake, hurry! It's the Lord's mercy they didn't
see us back here."

That day Pawnee Rock saw the same old beauty of sunrise; the same clear
sweeping breeze; the same long shining hours on the green prairies; but
it all meant nothing to me, racked with pain and choking with thirst
through the awful lengths of that summer day. Fitful unconsciousness,
with fever and delirium, seeing mocking faces with snaky black eyes,
looking long at me; food almost touching my lips, and floods of crystal
wate