e hand he would have
pitched headlong to the earth.

No, by God! he couldn't fail now. He must succeed, the lives of his
comrades depended on his efforts. He had told Colonel Clarke he would
get through or die, and he was a long way from dead yet. Only an hour
and a half more and he would have sent the message and then all the
Indians in the country could go to the demnition bow wows for all he
cared.

Hearing no more shots Denny drew rein for a moment and listened. Not a
sound could be heard, the snow had started to softly fall and the first
faint rays of light on the eastern horizon heralded the approach of a
new-born day. Ah! he had outridden his pursuers. Gently patting his
faithful horse's neck, he once more started swiftly on, and when he was
within a few miles of the line he chanced to glance back and saw that
one lone Indian was following him.

Now it was a case of man against man. In his first flight and running
fight he had fired away all his ammunition save one cartridge. This he
determined to use to settle his pursuer, but not until it was absolutely
necessary; and putting spurs to his already tired horse, he galloped
on.

The Indian was slowly gaining on him and he saw the time for decisive
action was at hand. Ahead of him but one short half mile was that line,
already in the early morning light he could see the poles, and if the
god of battles would only speed his one remaining bullet in the right
direction, his message could be sent in safety and his comrades rescued.
His wounded right arm was numb from pain and his left was not the
steadiest in the world, but nothing venture, nothing have, and just
then--_Bang!_ and a bullet whizzed by his head. "Not this toime, ye red
devil," Denny defiantly shouted. A second bullet and he dropped off his
horse. Quickly wheeling about, he dropped on his stomach, and taking a
careful aim over his wounded right arm, he fired. The shot was
apparently a true one and the Indian pitched off head first and lay
still.

With an exultant shout Hogan jumped up and started for the line. Nothing
could stop him now. Loss of blood and the intense cold had weakened him
so that his legs were shaky, the earth seemed to be going around at a
great rate, dark spots were dancing before his eyes; but with a
superhuman effort he recovered himself and was soon at the line.

The wire was strung on light lances, and if Denny were in full
possession of his strength he could easily pull one