finish up
done for. All right. Ben he got nothin' to say. No waste talk. You pay
him, he do all he can for you."

"That's all I ask and all I want. Keep your eyes open. If the hunters
come near, give me warning. If Merriwell strays alone, let me know and I
will hasten to meet him."

A few moments later the redskin was again left as a sentinel on the
mountain side, while Del Norte retraced his steps to the cave where he
had sought concealment with his fair captive.

* * * * *

The sun was touching the tip of a rocky western peak. For a long time
Red Ben had been watching a solitary man who was making his way slowly
and cautiously up the mountain. The eyes of the Indian glittered and his
fingers closed firmly on his rifle, which was ready for use.

Nearer and nearer came the unsuspecting man. At times he disappeared
from view amid the timber, only to reappear at some point anticipated by
the watcher.

Finally he drew near the spot where the Indian lay. Slowly Red Ben
pushed forward his rifle, bringing the butt against his shoulder. The
muzzle covered the heart of the unsuspecting man, who also carried a
rifle.

At that moment the man dropped like a flash and rolled over twice until
he lay behind a sheltering bowlder.

Red Ben was astonished, for he realized that the other had scented
danger, yet how this had happened was more than the redskin could
comprehend.

"Howld on there, ye spalpane!" cried a voice. "Don't be afther shootin'
yer bist friend. Oi know ye're there, fer Oi saw th' bushes wiggle a wee
bit. If it's Red Ben ye are, ye ought to know Pat O'Toole, so ye had."

The astonishment of the Indian increased, but for some moments he
neither spoke nor made a sound.

"Nivver a bit av good will it do to kape so shtill," declared he of the
rich Irish brogue. "Oi know ye're there. It's not often Pat O'Toole
makes a mishtake."

The Indian sat up, exposing the upper part of his body.

"Come," he invited. "Ben no shoot."

O'Toole rose from his place of concealment, grinning triumphantly.

"Begorra, Oi think Oi saved mesilf a foine hole in me shkin," he
chuckled, as he advanced. "Whin Misther Browning towld me about th'
Injun in th' boat wid the wolf, sez Oi to mesilf, sez Oi, 'Oi'll bet me
loife Oi know th' mon, an' it's Red Ben.' Misther Merriwell wur sure th'
spalpane he's afther must be somewhere here, an' it's the counthry all
over they are searchin'. Oi took it on mesi