up right off. This means
something."

More whiskey, a long draught, and more cold water, presently revived him
so that he could speak collectedly.

"I left them with Pike--in the Pass. My Mexican ran away with the
mules--followed and found your trail--my horse fell on me and then
rolled over a precipice--killed. I've come on foot ever since."

"Thank God, you're here safe anyhow! Now lie still. I'll leave a guard
with you and we'll go as fast as we can through the darkness and find
Ned and Nellie."

"No! no! I must go. I will go, too. See, I can stand. Give me a horse."

And so, finding him determined and rapidly regaining strength, Hunter
made the captain eat all he could bear to swallow then, and, stowing
more food in their saddle bags, away went the gallant little troop
hurrying through the starlit night for Sunset Pass and rescue.

But the way was long; road or trail there was none. Over rugged height,
through deep ravine, they forced their way, but not until all the sky
was blushing in the east did they come to the old Wingate road, and the
gloomy entrance to the Pass. Up they rode at a steady trot, Gwynne and
Hunter leading, and, at a sudden turn of the road, far in towards the
western side, their horses recoiled, snorting with fear, from a heap of
smouldering embers, in the midst of which lay a fearful something,--the
charred and hissing body of a human being. Gwynne groaned aloud at the
sight and then drove his horse up a rocky pathway to the left, the
others following. There lay the smoking ruins of an ambulance with
scraps of clothing heaped about on every side, and here the stricken
father's waning strength left him entirely. With one heartbroken cry,
"My babies--my little ones. They are gone! gone!" he was only saved from
falling by the prompt action of two stalwart troopers.

In ten minutes, supporting the fainting soldier as best they could, the
detachment was marching rapidly westward.

"Sieber with the scouts can't be farther away than Jarvis Pass. We'll
meet him," said Hunter to his sergeant, "and trail these Scoundrels to
their holes."

His words were true. Before ten o'clock they had met, not only Sieber,
but Turner's troop from Verde, coming full tilt, and Gwynne was now
turned over to the doctor's care.

CHAPTER IX.

THE ATTACK.

Startled suddenly from his sleep, it was indeed a dreadful sight, and
one calculated to shake the nerves of many an old soldier, that greeted
Pike's