lf. My memory is broken into
a thousand fragments. Some things I remember well; some things I do not
remember at all. There was a time when I was young, and I had friends.
Who were my friends? What has happened to rob me of my memory? I believe
Uric Dugan can tell me. If I had not believed so, Dugan should have died
long ago. Scores of times I have held his life in the hollow of my hand.
I have longed to slay him--to kill him for some wrong he has done me. My
hand has been held by a power I could not see. A voice has whispered in
my ear, 'Wait.' I have waited. For what? I do not know."

He bowed his head on his breast, over which flowed his long white beard,
and his attitude was one of intense dejection.

The boys were silent, wondering at the strange man who had befriended
them.

Some moments passed.

"By going forth early I saw many things," the man finally declared,
speaking quietly. "You are not the only ones who have strayed into the
net of the Danites."

"We have been informed there are others," said Frank.

"Informed? How?"

Frank told how Miskel had shot the message into the mouth of the cave.

"I have seen her hundreds of times," slowly spoke Old Solitary. "She
has a good face. It does not seem possible that she is his daughter--the
daughter of Uric Dugan. I think the memory of her face has spared his
life at times. But it will not be ever thus. The time will come when I
shall steel my heart."

"We have just seen the Danites bear a captive into their village, and
that captive is my guardian."

"A small man with reddish hair and beard?"

"Yes."

"I saw him captured. He had wandered from others. From a height I saw
them all."

"How many are there?"

"There were four, but two of them are Danites."

"What's that?"

"It is true. The man of the sandy beard and the boy came here with two
of Uric Dugan's wretched satellites."

"Howly saints!" gasped Barney.

"He must mean the explorers, Graves and Kerney," said Frank.

"They were not explorers; if they said so, they lied. Caleb Kerney is
one of the old band of Danites, as bloodthirsty and relentless as the
worst of them. Colton Graves is the son of Pascal Graves, once a leader
of the Destroying Angels--a man whose hands were dyed with innocent
blood. They went forth, with others, to bring provisions from the
settlements. All of the others have returned before them."

"And they led Walter Clyde and Professor Scotch into this snare!" said
Fran