ir height.

On the other hand John Fox had, as might be supposed, more strength
and endurance. He was not over weight, and therefore not scant of
breath. Ernest got the start, and this was an advantage. One ran about
as fast as the other, so it settled down into a contest of endurance.
Whoever could hold out the longest would win.

The outlaw, however, was irritated at the unexpected difficulty of his
undertaking. He had thought that Ernest would surrender at discretion.

"I wish I had my revolver," he muttered.

Had the outlaw been aware that Ernest had in his possession the packet
of bonds which had impelled his brother to make him a captive, his
zeal would have been increased. This, however, he did not suspect. He
knew, of course, that the bonds would be taken from him, and he could
conceive of no chance of the boy's recovering them.

They flew over the ground, maintaining the same relative distance. But
there was an unexpected contingency that worked to the disadvantage of
Ernest.

Directly in his path was a projecting root, which in his haste escaped
his notice. He tripped over it, and as a natural consequence he
measured his length on the ground.

The outlaw's face lighted up with exultation. Now the issue was no
longer doubtful. At last he had the boy in his power.

Before Ernest could recover himself and rise to his feet, John Fox was
upon him.

He flung himself on the prostrate boy, and clutched him in a firm
grasp.

"Now I have you," he said. "You were a fool to run. You might have
known that you could not escape."

"I came near it, though," gasped Ernest, quite out of breath. "Let me
up."

"Will you promise to go with me without giving me any more trouble?"

"I will make no promises," said Ernest, stoutly.

"Then it will be the worse for you," said the outlaw vindictively.

What he proposed to do must remain unknown, for as he spoke a hand
was thrust into his neckcloth, and he was jerked violently to his
feet.

CHAPTER XXII.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Bewildered and angry, John Fox looked to see who was his assailant. He
found himself confronted by a tall, muscular Indian, whom Ernest also
recognized as the man whose child he had saved from a watery grave.

"What do you mean by this outrage?" demanded the outlaw angrily.

"Why are you hurting _him?_" said the Indian, pointing to Ernest.

"Because I choose to. What have you got to say about it?"

"Me stop you," said the Indian calml