the remarkably well imitated twang of a
bowstring, and his imagination supplied his own interpretation to the
sound passing his ear. Before he could collect his panic-stricken senses
he was seized from behind and a moment later, bound with rawhide and
gagged with buckskin, he lay on his back. A rough hand seized his hair
at the same instant that something cold touched his scalp. At that
moment his attacker sneezed, and a rough, tense voice growled a
challenge from the darkness behind him.

"Who's thar?" called Tom Boyd, the clicking of his rifle hammers sharp
and ominous.

The hand clutching the doctor's hair released it and the action was
followed by a soft and hurried movement through the woods.

"Who's thar?" came the low growl again, as Tom crept into the bound
man's range of vision and peered into the blackness of the woods.
Waiting a moment, the plainsman muttered something about being mistaken,
and departed silently.

After an agony of suspense, the bound man heard the approach of another
figure, and soon the corporal of his guard stopped near him and swore
vengefully under his breath as his soft query brought no answer.

"Cuss him," growled Ogden, angrily. "He's snuk back ter camp. I'll peg
his pelt out ter dry, come daylight." He moved forward to continue his
round of inspection and stumbled over the doctor's prostrate form. In a
flash the corporal's knife was at the doctor's throat. "Who air ye?" he
demanded fiercely. The throaty, jumbled growls and gurgles which
answered him apprised him of the situation, and he lost no time in
removing the gag and cutting the thongs which bound the sentry. "Thar,
now," he said in a whisper. "Tell me about it."

The doctor's account was vivid and earnest and one of his hands was
pressed convulsively against his scalp as if he feared it would leave
him.

Ogden heard him through patiently, grunting affirmatively from time to
time. "Jest what I told th' boys," he commented. "Wall, I reckon they
war scared away. Couldn't 'a' been many, or they'd 'a' rushed us. It war
a scatterin' bunch o' bucks, lookin' fer a easy sculp, or a chanct ter
stampede th' animals. Thievin' Pawnees, I reckon. Mebby they'll come
back ag'in: we'll wait right hyar fer 'em, dang thar eyes."

"Ain't you going to alarm the camp?" incredulously demanded the doctor,
having hard work to keep his teeth from chattering.

"What in tarnation fer? Jest 'cause a couple o' young bucks nigh got yer
h'ar? Hel