thing short of dynamite would
have moved it while the reins dangled before its eyes.

Its master slowly returned to the bowlder, where he set to work to cover
his tracks with dust, for although the shifting sand was doing this for
him, it was not doing it fast enough to suit him. When he had assured
himself that he had performed his task in a thoroughly workmanlike manner
he returned to his horse, and finally found a snug place of concealment
for it and himself. First bandaging its eyes so that it would not whinny
at the approach of other horses, he searched his pockets and finally
brought to light a pack of greasy playing cards, with which he amused
himself at solitaire, diligently keeping his eyes on both ends of the
heavier trail.

His intermittent scrutiny was finally rewarded by a cloud of dust which
steadily grew larger on the southern horizon and soon revealed the
character of the riders who made it. As they drew nearer to him his
implacable hatred caused him to pick up his rifle, but he let it slide
from him as he counted the number of the approaching party, before
which was being driven a herd of horses which were intended to be placed
as relays for the main force.

"Two, five, eight, eleven, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-seven,"
he muttered, carefully settling himself more comfortably. He could
distinguish the war paint on the reddish-brown colored bodies, and he
smiled at what was in store for them.

"I reckon I won't get gay with no twenty-seven Apaches," he muttered. "I
can wait, all right."

Upon reaching the rock the leaders of the band glanced at the arrow,
excitedly exchanged monosyllables and set off to the north at a hard
gallop, being followed by the others. As he expected, they were Apaches,
which meant that of all red raiders they were the most proficient. They
were human hyenas with rare intelligence for war and a most aggravating
way of not being where one would expect them to be, as army officers will
testify. Besides, an Apache war party did not appear to have stomachs,
and so traveled faster and farther than the cavalry which so often
pursued them.

The watcher chuckled softly at the success of his stratagem and, suddenly
arising, went carefully around the chaparral until he could see the
fast-vanishing braves. Waiting until they had disappeared over the
northern end of the crescent-shaped range of hills, he hurried to the
bowlder and again picked up the arrow.

"Huh! Didn't ta