e top of the bluff behind the camp, came half a dozen
shots, and the sentinel who had been posted there rushed in, shouting,
"Indians! Indians!" This time the enemy proved to be two overland
stages, loaded with mails and troops, who had fought their way through
from Denver. These had mistaken the sentinel for an Indian, and fired at
him, while he, thinking from this that they certainly must be Indians,
had fired back.

Late that same night the camp was again alarmed by a shot from one of
its sentries. Everybody sprang from his tent, rifle in hand, and for a
few minutes the excitement was intense. It was succeeded by a feeling of
deep disgust when it was discovered that sentry Binney Gibbs had fired
at a coyote that the light of the newly risen moon had disclosed
prowling about the camp.

When, therefore, at two o'clock in the morning, Glen went on duty, and
was stationed on the edge of the slope leading down to the stream, Mr.
Brackett, who was officer of the guard, charged him not to fire at
anything unless he was absolutely sure it was an Indian.

Glen answered that he certainly would not give an alarm without good
cause for so doing; and Mr. Brackett, promising to visit him again at
the end of an hour, went softly away to inspect the next post on his
round.

When, at the end of an hour, the officer of the guard returned to the
post where he had left Glen, the boy was not to be found. In vain did
Mr. Brackett call his name, at first in low tones, and then louder. In
vain did he question the other sentries. They had neither seen nor heard
anything more suspicious than an occasional coyote. In vain was the
whole camp aroused and a search made through its tents and wagons. Not a
trace of the boy, who was so universally liked, was to be found. He had
disappeared as absolutely, so far as they were concerned, as though the
earth had opened and swallowed him.

Chapter XV.

THE SUSPICIOUS MOVEMENTS OF CERTAIN COYOTES.

When Glen was left lying on the ground, with his rifle beside him,
peering into the black shadows of the undergrowth, he certainly did not
anticipate seeing any thing more dangerous to his own safety, or that of
the sleeping camp, than coyotes, and he had already learned what
cowardly beasts they were. How absurd it was of Binney Gibbs to fire at
one. He might have known what it was. No wonder the fellows were
provoked. He would like to know as much as Binney did about some things;
but he shoul