und
hand and foot.

"He told me to go to sleep," he said, as he stretched out upon his
blanket; "I guess I'll try and do it. I don't see any use of sitting up
and watching such a set of wretches as they are. I'd rather have a pack
of wolves about me than such as they."

The night was too mild to require the blanket wrapped over him; besides
which the warmth from the camp fire was very perceptible; so he lay upon
his back looking up at the stars and endeavoring to shut out from his
thoughts the hateful beings gathered around, and whose grunting voices
and loud exclamations were never quiet, but continued so long that they
acquired a certain monotony, like the rattle and hum of the mill, which
lulls the miller to sleep.

"It's strange," he murmured, as his imaginings became as wayward as a
boy's will. "Father is off yonder, I don't know how many hundred miles,
and mother is just the opposite way in Santa Fe, and here I am about
half way between them. We were never so scattered in all the world
before. I wonder what father will do when he finds out about Lone Wolf?
The chief has put his blanket of greenbacks away somewhere, and I guess
he knows how to take care of them. I declare, but that was a big
haul--one hundred thousand dollars at a lick! I should think Lone Wolf
might afford to retire now on what he has made. But the poor men," added
Ned, with that sudden throb of the heart which always came when lie
recalled the fearful attack and massacre in Devil's Pass. "Not one of
them left alive! Oh, I wish I could forget it all! but I never, never
can. The Indians have done such things many a time before, but I never
saw them. It'll kill me if I don't keep it out of my thoughts."

There seemed to be less moon that night than on the previous evening,
and as the boy lay looking upward, he could see a number of stars
twinkling in the sky. He reflected that beyond them was One who could
not forget his pitiful condition, who could bring him out of all his
troubles, and who was the only Being unto whom he could go in this dark
hour. Ned prayed to Him, as he had been taught to pray at his mother's
knee, and, recalling the words which he had so often heard from her dear
lips, he believed that God could not forsake him, but that all would
come out right. He had lain thus perhaps an hour, when he turned upon
his side for the greater comfort of position. As he did so, he was
reminded of Devil's Pass by a sharp twinge in his side. It