emple, he bound up the young man's
forehead with his handkerchief.

In the meantime, Hank Stiger was making a detour, expecting to come up
behind Dan and surprise him. He had drank just enough to be utterly
reckless, and carried his pistol in his hand ready for another shot.

Providence saved Dan from the anticipated attack. While Stiger was
still two rods off, the boy happened to turn and catch sight of him.
His pistol was still in his hand, and, without stopping to think twice,
he fired on the half-breed.

The effect of the shot was curious, and the feat performed would be
hard to duplicate. The bullet from Dan's pistol struck the hammer of
Stiger's weapon, and while the pistol exploded and the ball sank into
the ground, the hammer was knocked off and hit the half-breed in the
cheek, inflicting an ugly wound. The bullet itself, having hit the
hammer, glanced downward and lodged in Stiger's leg, close to his
half-bent knee. The man gave a howl of pain and then fell flat.

In a moment Dan was ready for a second shot, but it was not needed.
Stiger's pistol was now useless, and as he could not stand up, because
of the intense pain in his knee, handling his knife was out of the
question. As he sat up, the boy faced him sternly.

"Up with your hands, Stiger," he said, sternly; and the hands went up,
and Dan was master of the situation.

CHAPTER XVI.

AFTER A MISSING MUSTANG.

"What are you going to do with me?" asked Hank Stiger, after a moment
of painful silence, during which Dan glanced toward Henry, to find his
friend reviving rapidly.

"You'll find out later, Stiger. I can tell you one thing, you've gotten
yourself in a pretty tight box."

"It wasn't my fault,--you forced the shooting," was the sullen
response. "Why didn't you leave me alone from the start?"

"Because I am bound to have those papers and the other articles you
stole, that's why."

"I took nothing, I swear it."

"Do you expect me to believe you,--after what has happened here, and
after that affair of the deer?"

At this Stiger was silent. He wanted to get up and rush at Dan, despite
the levelled pistol, but the wounded knee held him back. Had he been a
full-blooded Indian he would have suffered in silence, but, being only
a half-breed, and of poor Indian and white blood at that, he groaned
dismally.

"Dan!" The cry came faintly from Henry, who had slowly raised himself.
"Where--what--oh, I remember, now!" And he sank back again