ly followed him. The
bullet pierced the heart of the antelope, which made a frenzied leap
high in air, staggered a few paces, and dropped to the ground without a
particle of life.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed the delighted Jack, springing up and dashing down
the side of the valley toward his prize; "I beat you, after all, Fred!"

Not doubting that his comrade would speedily appear, Jack gave no
further thought to him, but continued running until he reached the
prize. He had learned the art so rapidly that it took but a few minutes
to cut all he could need for himself and friend. Then he hurried to the
little grove near by, washed and dressed the food, which seemed to be
juicy and tender, and started a fire for the purpose of broiling it.

He had not paused in his work up to this point, but now he stopped with
the first real thrill of alarm for his friend.

"Four o'clock!" he exclaimed to himself; "what can have become of him?"

He walked to the edge of the trees and looked out, anxiously peering in
different directions, but nothing was seen of his friend. Knowing Fred's
waggish nature, Jack hoped that he was indulging in some jest, but he
could not quite convince himself that such was the fact. The hunger of
Fred would have prevented his postponing the meal one moment longer than
was necessary.

When an abundance of food was browned and crisped and ready the appetite
of Jack Dudley was less than it was two hours before, the cause being
his growing alarm over the unaccountable absence of Fred.

"I can't understand it," he repeated for the twentieth time; "some
accident must have befallen him. Can it be Motoza has had anything to do
with it?"

It was the first time that Jack had expressed this fear in words, but it
was by no means the first time he had felt it. Rather curiously, from
the moment his friend passed out of sight, several hours before, the
vague misgiving began to shape itself in his mind. He fought it off and
succeeded in repressing it for a time, but he could do so no longer.

"Fred didn't seem to give any meaning to that awful look of the Sioux
when he started to walk away, but I saw what it meant, though I never
dreamed the blow would fall so soon."

His heart was depressed almost beyond bearing, and the anguish was
deepened by the fact that he could see no way of helping his friend. The
only thing possible was to follow as nearly as he could the course taken
by Fred, but there was no certainty of that.