, and, ferocious
as was the hatred of the redskins toward the hunter who had outwitted
and injured them so often, no one made any effort to overhaul him.

Tom Hardynge, every few seconds, let out a regular Apache war-yell,
intended as exultation, taunt and defiance. He could afford it, for he
had triumphed as completely as heart could covet. The magnificent
Thundergust instinctively knew their destination, and the reins lay
loosely upon his neck as he sped away. He was aiming for Fort Havens. It
was a long distance away, and many hours must pass before its flagstaff
could be detected against the far-off horizon.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE TWO DEFENDERS.

Dick Morris, stretched out full length upon the top of Hurricane Hill,
peering down in the impenetrable gloom, understood all that had passed.
There was no mistaking that yell of Tom Hardynge; he had heard it many a
time before in the heat of conflict, and it generally meant something.

"Go it, old chap!" he shouted, swinging his hat over his head, as he saw
the whole thing in his imagination. "Them 'ere pistol-barks show there's
been some bitin' done. Business is business."

He noted, too, the sounds of the mustang's hoofs growing fainter and
fainter, until the strained ears could detect them no longer. Tom
Hardynge had safely passed through the Apache lines. It was a daring and
desperate feat indeed, but it had succeeded to perfection. Nothing now
remained to hinder his flight direct to Fort Havens.

"I rather think somebody's mad," exulted Dick, who was fully as proud
over the exploit of his comrade as was Tom himself. "There ain't much
doubt but what there'll be lively times here before long. They know
there's only two of us, counting in the little chap, and they'll make a
rush. Let 'em do it. If they can get up by that corner where the other
fellow dropped they're welcome, that's all."

And with this conclusion he left the top of the hill and picked his way
down the path, until he reached the spot where he had parted from his
comrade. Here he stooped down with the purpose of picking up the body of
the warrior and flinging it down upon the heads of those below. To his
astonishment, it was gone!

He searched around for several minutes, venturing to descend some
distance, but it was missing.

"I don't think he could have got up and walked away," said the hunter,
as he scratched his head over the occurrence. "No, it couldn't have been
that, for Tom don't