wounded by the volley that gave them
such a rude awakening. The one who failed to escape was the young scout
who hoped to be known as "Wolf-Tongue," and who, on account of his
wound, was unable to fly with the rest.

He managed to conceal himself in a thicket until daylight. Then he was
discovered by one of the Pawnee scouts, who dragged him out, and would
have put him to death but for the interference of Glen Eddy, who was
just then led to the spot by his Irish captor.

An hour later Glen was enjoying the happiest breakfast in his life, in
company with Captain Garrett Winn, U.S.A., who was listening with
absorbed interest to the boy's account of his recent thrilling
experiences.

"Well, my lad," said the captain, when Glen had finished his story, "I
consider your several escapes from being killed, when first captured,
from the bullets of those fellows at the stage ranch, from the Indians,
and, finally, from being killed by that wild Irishman, as being little
short of miraculous."

Soon afterwards the trumpet sounded "Boots and Saddles," and Glen,
mounted on a handsome bay mare--which, with several other ponies, had
been left behind by the Indians in their hurried flight--trotted happily
away with his new friends in the direction of Fort Hayes. In his hand he
grasped his own rifle, which was recovered when Wolf-Tongue was
captured, and behind him, mounted on a pony led by one of the troopers,
rode that wounded and crest-fallen young Indian himself.

The future looked very black to Wolf-Tongue just now; for, totally
ignorant of the ways of white men, he expected nothing less than death
as soon as he should reach the fort. He realized that Glen had saved him
from the knife of the Pawnee scout, and wondered if the white boy would
interfere in his behalf with the warriors of his own race, or if they
would listen to him in case he did. He wished he knew just a little of
the white man's language, that he might discover what those soldiers on
each side of him were talking about. Perhaps they were even discussing
him and his fate. But he only knew one word of English, and now he began
to think he did not understand the meaning of that; for, though he heard
the soldiers say "how" several times in the course of their
conversation, they did not seem to use it at all as he would. So the
Indian lad rode along unhappily enough; but, though his thoughts were
very busy, no trace of them was allowed to exhibit itself in his
impas