d swelled; but though, in some vital ways, human sense is
less acute than brute sense, Andy did feel something of what the
buckskin had felt, something of what had slain the dog, and his heart
thumped with a strange heaviness. "What do you want to fight for? I'd
beat the life out of you."

It failed of the effect intended, and Andy found his head suddenly
twisted to one side by a slap on the cheek. He stepped back, white with
fury, tossed his coat aside, and hurled himself upon the slender figure
waiting with such unearthly composure.

* * * * *

Dawn was flooding the east, and still the boy lurched and floundered on
and on, keeping to the road that led into the wilderness. Occasionally
he would stop for a minute's rest and to listen for the baying of
Frazier's bloodhound; and he wondered, in a purely detached and
scientific way, whether he had sufficient strength and acuteness left
for another such grapple. It was merely an engaging speculation, and was
complicated with his determination to perform another task before his
work was done. It would nearly break his heart to be stopped now. Likely
the dog would not attack him, but merely hold him at bay until the
pursuers came to his summons; but if the dog would not attack, then the
boy must. Would strength or even life be left for the last and most
important of all the tasks to which the Hand was leading him?--for there
was a good distance yet to be covered, and work to be done at the end of
it. He was thankful that the ache had entirely left his throat and that
a strange warmth had kindled in his breast.

[Illustration: "DAWN WAS FLOODING THE EAST, AND STILL THE BOY LURCHED AND
FLOUNDERED ON AND ON." FROM A PAINTING BY GORDON ROSS]

Perhaps they had not really meant what they said about setting Frazier's
bloodhound to run him down. The remark had come from the yardman, not
Mr.
Carmichael himself, who had appeared too stunned to think of anything
but his son. If they had wished to kill the outlaw, or take him and send
him to jail, why had they not seized and bound him instead of staring at
him so queerly, and then the yardman foolishly saying, as Ray staggered
away and they picked up the limp figure, that they would get Frazier's
bloodhound and set him on the trail? They were two strong men against a
mere boy, who was so exhausted that only with a mighty effort could he
stand. It was Andy's final despairing cry that had waked them.