er's footfall seemed to him to be the rush of coming warriors, and
time and again he glanced nervously over his shoulder, dreading pursuit.
But he never wavered in his gallant purpose.

The long ridge was soon left to his right rear, and now he began to edge
over towards the west, intending in this way to reach the road at a
point where there would lie before him a fifteen-mile stretch of good
"going ground." Over that he meant to send Buford at full speed.

Since starting he had heard no sound of the fray; the ridge and the
distance had swallowed up the clamor; but he knew full well that the
raiding Indians would do their utmost this night to burn the Farron
ranch and kill or capture its inmates. Every recurring thought of the
peril of his beleaguered friends prompted him to spur his faithful
steed, but he had been reared in the cavalry and taught never to drive a
willing horse to death.

The long, sweeping, elastic strides with which Buford bore him over the
rolling prairie served their needs far better than a mad race of a mile
or two, ending in a complete break-down, would have done.

At last, gleaming in the moonlight, he sighted the hard-beaten road as
it twisted and wound over the slopes, and in a few moments more rode
beneath the single wire of the telegraph line, and then gave Buford a
gentle touch of the steel. He had made a circuit of ten miles or more to
reach this point, and was now, he judged, about seven miles below the
station and five miles from Farron's ranch.

He glanced over his right shoulder and anxiously searched the sky and
horizon. Intervening "divides" shut him off from a view of the valley,
but he saw that as yet no glare of flames proceeded from it.

"Thus far the defence has held its own," he said, hopefully, to himself.
"Now, if Buford and I can only reach Lodge Pole unmolested there may yet
be time."

Ascending a gentle slope he reined Buford down to a walk, so that his
pet might have a little breathing spell. As he arrived at the crest he
cast an eager glance over the next "reach" of prairie landscape, and
then--his heart seemed to leap to his throat and a chill wave to rush
through his veins.

Surely he saw a horseman dart behind the low mound off to the west. This
convinced him that the Indians had discovered and pursued him. After
the Indian fashion they had not come squarely along his trail and thus
driven him ahead at increased speed, but with the savage science of
their war