en he came closer, he saw a procession of youths
march up, each carrying a large load of faggots. Following them came
Indians armed with spears, scalping-knives, bows and arrows, and
formidable clubs.

Rube began to feel exceedingly limp. He was trembling from head to
foot, though as yet he only guessed at the ominous meaning of these
preparations.

Suddenly he was seized from behind and thrust bodily towards the grim
execution tree. He struggled, but was overpowered. A blow on the head
made his brain reel, and all the strength of his resistance went out of
him.

When he came to himself again he found that he was bound by ropes to
the tree, and that flames were licking at his feet and legs, while by
the light of the fire and through the mist of smoke he saw hideous
figures of red men dancing round him, menacing him with their spears
and knives and tomahawks.

The fire nipped his shins, the ropes were cutting into his flesh, the
sparks and smoke were choking him.

"Kiddie! Kiddie!" he cried aloud in his anguish of body and mind.

And then, from immediately behind him, there came a calm, steady voice--

"All right, Rube; all right. I'm here."

Never, never, though he should live to be a hundred, could Rube Carter
forget those magical, unexpected words, coming to him as they did in
the most awful moment of his young life!

He did not ask himself just then how it had been possible for Kiddie to
find him and to penetrate the crowd of excited Indians unnoticed and
unhindered. All that he thought of was that Kiddie was here to rescue
him from the torturing death from which there had seemed to be no
faintest hope of escape.

But even yet escape had not been achieved.

The rising flames were scorching his legs, the flying sparks were
stinging his face and neck, the resinous smoke of the pine wood was
stifling him, and the madly-gesticulating Redskins were prodding at him
with their long spears and striking at him with their tomahawks to see
how nearly they could hit him without yet touching him. They prolonged
the process of cruelty to increase his mental suffering; but the delay
gave Kiddie his chance.

"Cut the rope, Kiddie--cut the rope!" Rube cried, not knowing that
Kiddie's sharp knife had already done its work.

Hardly had he spoken, when a strong arm was flung round him, and he was
lifted bodily backward beyond reach of the flames and the menacing
weapons of torture. His brain reeled as the suppo