e
horse and rode another, Watson took up the unconscious man in his arms
and followed on his own steed to the cave.

They found Noel sitting by the fire nursing his lacerated arm. The wound
was an ugly affair but by no means dangerous, and after it was washed
and bandaged it felt a great deal better, although the arm was bound to
be stiff for several weeks to come and sore in the bargain.

"Got him, I see," remarked the young man, as he glanced at Slavin.
"What's the trouble, did you have to shoot him?"

"No, he got under a fallen tree," answered Allen.

The unconscious man was placed in a comfortable position near the fire,
which was heaped up with fresh wood, that all might dry themselves, and
Watson went to work to restore Slavin.

This was no mean task and it was a good half hour before the man opened
his eyes to stare about him.

"I--I--where am I?" he stammered.

"Yer safe," answered Watson, laconically.

"That tree--Did I go over into the hollow?"

"No."

"How did I escape?"

"Allen Winthrop saved ye."

"He did!"

"Yes, Slavin; he's yer best friend, if ye only know it," went on the old
hunter warmly.

"But I--don't--don't understand."

In a few words Watson explained the situation to which Slavin listened
with much interest. Then his eyes rested on Allen.

"I'm much erbliged ter ye," he said slowly, and his manner showed he
meant it.

"You were a fool ter try ter git away," went on Watson.

"I know thet--now," muttered the hurt one.

"Don't ye know I would have plugged ye on sight?"

"Would ye?"

"Sartain shur, Slavin."

"Wall, I won't give ye another chance," responded Slavin, with a heavy
sigh.

"Ye won't git the chance, ye mean," said the old hunter, significantly.

"All right, jes' as ye please, Watson. But if thet young feller saved my
life why I'm----"

"What?"

"I'm going to make it up ter him, thet's all."

"Do you mean that you will lead us without any further trouble?"
questioned Allen eagerly.

"Thet's wot I do mean, an' I'll swear ter it if ye want me ter," added
Slavin, solemnly.

"You needn't swear, Slavin."

"But I mean it, Winthrop. I may be a bad man, but I ain't so all-fired
bad as ter forgit a man when he does me a good turn," went on the
sufferer, with increased earnestness.

"Well, I will take you at your word."

"But I can't go on just yet. I've got a terrible pain in my breast,
here."

"I suppose you have. We shan't move to-night and maybe not