ss fiends!" and the maiden gave him a grateful glance. "They
whipped me, terribly!"

"I know, lady--all because you defended yourself in Red Canyon."

"I suppose so: but how did you find out so much, and, also, effect my
release from the savages?"

Fearless Frank leaned up against the tree which had been used as the
torture-stake, and related what is already known to the reader.

When he had finished, the rescued captive seized his hand between both
her own, and thanked him warmly.

"Had it not been for you, sir, no one but our God knows what would
have been my fate. Oh! sir, what can I do, more than to thank you a
thousand times, to repay you for the great service you have rendered
me?"

"Nothing, lady; nothing that I think of at present. Was it not my
duty, while I had the power, to free you from the hands of those
barbarians? Certainly it was, and I deserve no thanks. But tell me,
what is your name, and were your friends all killed in the train from
which you were taken?"

"I had no friends, sir, save a lady whose acquaintance I made on the
journey out from Cheyenne. As to my name--you can call me Miss Terry."

"Mystery!" in blank amazement.

"Yes;" with a gay laugh--"Mystery, if you choose. My name is Alice
Terry."

"Oh!" and the youth began to brighten. "Miss Terry, to be sure;
Mystery! ha! ha! good joke. I shall call you the latter. Have you
friends and relatives East?"

"No. I came West to meet my father, who is somewhere in the Black
Hills."

"Do you know at what place?"

"I do not."

"I fear it will be a hard matter to find him, then. The Hills now have
a floating population of about twenty-five thousand souls. Your father
would be one to find out of that lot."

A faint smile came over the girl's face. "I should know papa among
fifty thousand, if necessary;" she said, "although I have not seen him
for years."

She failed to mention how many, or what peculiarities she would
recognize him by. Was he blind, deaf or dumb?

Fearless Frank glanced around him, and saw that a path rugged and
steep led up to the prairie above.

"Come," he said, offering his arm, "we will get up to the plains and
go."

"Where to?" asked Miss Terry, rising with an effort. The welts across
her back were swollen and painful.

"Deadwood is my destination. I can deviate my course, however, if it
will accommodate you."

"Oh! no; you must not inconvenience yourself on my account. I am of
little or no consequence,