ed to Old Solitary:

"Are we to remain inactive and see this frightful deed? Are we to do
nothing now that we are here?"

"We will do what we can," declared the strange man. "The time has come
for Dugan's career to end! I feel that I must strike. He shall never
give the fatal signal!"

The man lifted his old rifle, and the hammer clicked as he cocked it.

Dugan stepped forth to give the signal, and his harsh voice rang out
distinctly:

"Ready!"

The firing squad lifted their rifles.

"Take aim!"

The fatal moment was at hand.

The butt of Old Solitary's rifle came to the man's shoulder. He was
resting on one knee, and the weapon was held as steady as the hills.
"One!" counted Dugan.

It was the last word he ever uttered, for a spout of flame leaped from
the muzzle of Old Solitary's weapon, and the bullet sped on its fatal
mission.

Without a cry or a groan, Dugan flung up his hands and plunged headlong
upon his face.

There was a wild shriek, and the form of a girl rushed into the
firelight. Down beside the fallen man she dropped, lifting his head and
staring wildly into his face.

It was Miskel, but she could not save her wicked father, for the aim of
Old Solitary had been accurate.

The Danites were thrown into the greatest confusion, and Frank Merriwell
held back no longer.

"Come on, Barney!" he shouted.

"Oi'm wid yez!" assured the undaunted Irish lad.

Forward they rushed, each firing a shot as they did so, and adding to
the dismay of the Danites.

Straight up to Professor Scotch ran Frank, and, with one slash of a
sharp knife he had drawn, he released the man.

Barney did the same thing for Walter Clyde, and the two were set at
liberty before the Danites realized what was happening. Then bullets
began to whistle around them.

At that moment a wild, strange cry cut the night air, filling the hearts
of the Danites with the utmost terror.

It was the war cry of the Navajoes!

A hundred dusky forms seemed to materialize from the darkness, and a
hundred savage warriors, deadly enemies of the Danites, came charging
into the camp.

Old Solitary had rushed to the side of Uric Dugan, into whose face he
glared, as he cried:

"Look, Dugan, look! You robbed me of reason, of memory, of everything I
held dear; but I have been avenged, for it was my hand that laid you
low!"

"He is dead!" screamed Miskel, and she fainted on her father's body.

"Yes, he is dead!" said the avenger, in a half-