been content to follow the purpose that had taken him
thither, without giving more attention to the white man, whom he had
certainly spared for the time, when he was in his power. The captain
could not understand the logic which appeared to be controlling this
warrior from the moment he climbed over the edge of the roof.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN UNEXPECTED QUERY.

As long as Captain Shirril stayed near the scuttle, he could not command
a view of the entire roof of his cabin. His interest in what was going
on below made him anxious to do this, but he was too alive to his own
danger to remain motionless for more than a few minutes at a time.

The indistinct rustling that had awakened his hope soon ceased, and he
was compelled to believe the Comanche had given up his intention of
trying to gain a stealthy shot at him and was now devoting himself to
the inmates of the dwelling.

How he longed to descend through the scuttle and take part in the
stirring events that must soon be under way there! What short work he
would make of the wretch who had dared to assume such a risk!

But it was useless to regret his own shortsightedness, now that it
rendered him powerless to strike a blow for his friends. He crept to the
peak of the roof, and scrutinized every portion thus brought into his
field of vision. Not the slightest sound fell upon his ear that could
indicate danger, nor could he discern anything of his enemies.

The wind was still blowing fitfully, and he heard the familiar rustle of
the mesquite bush, with now and then a signal passing between the
Comanches. He listened in vain for the noise made by the hoofs of their
mustangs. They seemed to have ceased their aimless galloping back and
forth, and were probably plotting some new form of mischief.

Suddenly the rattle of a horse's feet struck him. It broke upon his
hearing for an instant, and then ceased as abruptly as it had made
itself manifest.

It was as if a steed were galloping over the soft earth, and, reaching a
small bridge of planks, dashed over them with two or three bounds, his
hoofs immediately becoming inaudible in the yielding ground beyond.

That which might have puzzled a listener was plain to the Texan, who had
spent many years on the plains of the Southwest. He knew that what might
be called a peculiar eddy in the fitful wind had brought the sound to
him. A sudden change of direction--ended as soon as it began--whirled
the noise as straight