fteen minutes, yet not the slightest sound reached him from that
direction. The lad remained in a state of suspense which was intensified
by his fears of a flank movement upon the part of the Apache whom he had
seen but a short time before.

"It must take them a long time to make a reconnaissance--"

He suddenly ceased, for his ear, more than usually alert, caught a
slight but suspicious sound, and quick as a flash he turned his head. He
was not an instant too soon, for there was the crouching figure of the
Apache warrior, no more than a dozen feet distant, his gleaming knife
clutched in his right hand, and his eyes fairly aflame with passion. He
was not moving along inch by inch, but with that soft gliding motion,
which was more like the approach of a serpent than of a person.

Ned still held his rifle with the hammer raised, and ready for just such
an emergency. Partly expecting the visit, he was fully prepared. When he
turned his head and encountered the gaze of the Indian, the latter gave
utterance to a low gutteral exclamation, and started more rapidly toward
him.

"If you must have it, there it is."

The flash from the muzzle of the rifle was almost in the face of the
Apache, who, with a death-shriek horrible to hear, threw both arms above
his head, and, with a spasmodic twitching of the limbs, breathed his
last in a single breath.

Ned was scarcely less terrified than the redskin must have been at the
first flash of the gun; and, forgetful of the warning of the scouts, he
leaped out from beneath the bushes, and dashed away in the direction
taken by his friends.

He had run but a rod or two when he suddenly found himself face to face
with Tom Hardynge, who demanded, in a hurried undertone:

"What's up, now?"

"I've just shot an Indian."

"Did you wipe him out?"

"Oh, yes; oh, yes."

"Then what are you running away from him for? If you've wiped him out,
he can't hurt you."

"But I don't want to stay near him," added the lad, who was in a
distressing state of anxiety; "take me away."

"That's just what I'm going to do," replied the hunter, turning about
and hurrying off. "Keep close to me and I will take care of you."

Instead of retracing their steps, they kept ahead, and a short distance
further on made an abrupt turn and suddenly came upon Dick Morris,
seated upon the back of his mustang, with Thundergust, as Tom called
him, standing near, and a third one visible in the background.

"Whose is