eeks were flushed.
It was a daring, it was a gallant, thought,--the idea of riding back all
alone through a country that might be infested by savage foes; but it
was the one chance.

Farron and Wells and the men might be able to hold out a few hours at
the ranch up the valley, and keep the Indians far enough away to prevent
their burning them out. Of course the ranch could not stand a long siege
against Indian ingenuity, but six hours, or eight at the utmost, would
be sufficient time in which to bring rescue to the inmates. By that time
he could have an overwhelming force of cavalry in the valley, and all
would be safe.

If word were not sent to them it would be noon to-morrow before the
advance of the Fifth would reach the Chug. By that time all would be
over with Farron.

Ralph's brave young heart almost stopped beating as he thought of the
hideous fate that awaited the occupants of the ranch unless help came to
them. He felt that nothing but a light rider and a fast horse could
carry the news in time. He knew that he was the lightest rider in the
valley; that Buford was the fastest horse; that no man at the station
knew all the "breaks" and ravines, the ridges and "swales" of the
country better than he did.

Farron's lay to the southwest, and thither probably all the Indians were
now riding. He could gallop off to the southeast, make a long _detour_,
and so reach Lodge Pole unseen. If he could get there in two hours and a
half, the cavalry could be up and away in fifteen minutes more, and in
that case might reach the Chug at daybreak or soon afterwards.

One thing was certain, that to succeed he must go instantly, before the
Indians could come down and put a watch around Phillips's.

Of course it was a plan full of fearful risk. He took his life in his
hands. Death by the cruelest of tortures awaited him if captured, and it
was a prospect before which any boy and many a man might shrink in
dismay.

But he had thought of little Jessie; the plan and the estimation of the
difficulties and dangers attending its execution had flashed through his
mind in less than five seconds, and his resolution was instantly made.
He was a soldier's son, was Ralph, and saying no word to any one he had
run to the stable, saddled and bridled Buford, and with his revolver at
his hip was ready for his ride.

"It's no use of talking; I'm going," was all he said. "I know how to
dodge them just as well as any man here, and, as for fat