sturdy youth like Fred Greenwood
should submit to be led thus meekly to slaughter, but in what possible
way could he help himself? If he wheeled about to assail the buck he was
without a single weapon, while the Sioux was doubly armed. A glance over
his shoulder showed his enemy almost within arm's reach.

Not the least trying feature of this extraordinary proceeding was that
Fred had to hear the report of Jack Dudley's rifle, followed by his
shouts, which plainly reached the ears of the one who dared make no
reply. He could only continue walking until the bend in the valley was
passed, when a change of direction took place.

It was no longer necessary to conceal themselves from observation, for
there was no one to be feared. From the facts that afterward came to
light there is little doubt that Tozer and Motoza had held a conference
previous to the capture and fixed upon a definite line of procedure, for
otherwise it is not conceivable that the Sioux would have spared the
life of his captive.

With numerous turnings, and with the sounds of Jack Dudley's shouts and
firing faintly reaching his ears, young Greenwood continued marching in
front of his captor long after the sun had set and night closed in. He
had lost all idea of the points of the compass, but the fact that the
tramp continued and that no harm was done him inspired the prisoner with
a degree of hope that was altogether lacking at the opening of his
strange adventure.

Suddenly a roaring noise struck him, and a short distance further he
reached the break in the canyon with which he had become familiar. This
enabled him to locate himself, and he looked around to learn the further
wishes of his master. From the moment of starting Fred had been on the
alert for a chance to make a break for liberty, but none occurred. The
Sioux was too vigilant to tempt him.

The long immunity from harm had given the lad a certain self-assurance.
As yet he had formed no suspicion of the real purpose of the Sioux, but,
somehow or other, he believed his own death was not likely to be
attempted for a number of hours to come.

"Well, Motoza, here we are! What's the next step?"

The Indian raised one of the hands grasping a Winchester and pointed
toward the canyon.

"Go dere--jump on rock!"

"My gracious! I can't do that!"

"Den me kill!"

As if angered beyond restraint, he made a leap toward the startled
youth, who recoiled a step, and, esteeming a death by drowning
p