the bad break he had made. "As I
said, Mortimer Arbuckle is innocent. There is the murderer, and here are
the documents to prove it--and to prove more--that Vorlange is a thief,
that he assaulted Mortimer Arbuckle in the dark and left him for dead,
and that he is now acting against the best interests of the United
States government."

As Pawnee Brown ended he pointed at Vorlange, and held aloft the packet
he had taken from Yellow Elk.

"My father's documents!" cried Dick.

"The letters!" shrieked Louis Vorlange. Then he made a sudden leap to
secure them, but Pawnee Brown was too quick for him. The scout turned to
the captain of cavalry standing near.

"You had better arrest him before he tries to escape."

"They shall not arrest me!" came from Louis Vorlange's set lips. "Clear
the way!"

Like a flash his pistol came up and he fired into the crowd, which
parted in surprise and let him pass. But not more than ten steps were
covered when Pawnee Brown caught him by the arm and threw him headlong
to the ground. At the same time the prison sentry fired, and Vorlange
was mortally wounded in the side.

"I'll not forget you!" he cried to Pawnee Brown. "But for you I would
have lived in clover the balance of my life!" Then he fell into a faint
from which he recovered presently, to linger for several days in
terrible anguish, dying at last in convulsions.

With the death of Vorlange we bring our story to a close. By what was
said during the man's last hours on earth, Mortimer Arbuckle was
entirely cleared of the cloud which had hung over his honorable name.
Soon after this his right mind came back to him and to-day he is as well
and happy as it is possible to imagine.

Whatever became of Stillwater and Juan Donomez is not known.

With the truce declared by the actions of the authorities at Washington
and the word given by Pawnee Brown that no attempt should be made to
enter Oklahoma for the present, it was not deemed advisable to hold
either Dick or Rasco longer, and the two were given their freedom, to
journey at once to Honnewell, in company with the great scout and Nellie
Winthrop.

From Honnewell, Dick rode post haste to carry the glad news to his
father. A scene followed which no pen can describe, a scene so sacred to
the two it must be left entirely to the imagination of the reader. Never
was a man more proud of his son than was Mortimer Arbuckle of Dick, or
more grateful than was the mine-owner to Pawnee Brown