interruption, which had been of such essential
service to him, lost not a moment in availing himself of it. He bounded
forward, and before the savage well knew what he purposed, he had picked
up his fallen weapon, and, leveling it at his wounded foe, fired.

His bullet was not meant to disable, but to kill. It penetrated the
heart of the savage, and, staggering back, he fell, his face distorted
with rage and disappointment.

"The tables are turned, my red friend!" said the hunter, coolly. "It's
your life, not mine, this time!"

At that moment Herbert, pale and shocked, but relieved as well, pressed
forward, and the hunter saw him for the first time.

"Was it you, boy, who fired the shot?" asked the hunter, in surprise.

"Yes," answered Herbert.

"Then I owe you my life, and that's a debt Jack Holden isn't likely to
forget!"

CHAPTER XXXI. JACK HOLDEN ON THE INDIAN QUESTION.

It is a terrible thing to see a man stretched out in death who but a
minute before stood full of life and strength. Herbert gazed at the dead
Indian with a strange sensation of pity and relief, and could hardly
realize that, but for his interposition, it would have been the hunter,
not the Indian, who would have lost his life.

The hunter was more used to such scenes, and his calmness was unruffled.

"That's the end of the dog!" he said, touching with his foot the dead
body.

"What made him want to kill you?" asked Herbert.

"Revenge," answered Holden.

"For what? Had you injured him?"

"That's the way he looked at it. One day I caught the varmint stealin'
my best hoss. He'd have got away with him, too, if I hadn't come home
just as I did. I might have shot him--most men would--but I hate to take
a man's life for stealin'; and I took another way. My whip was lyin'
handy, and I took it and lashed the rascal over his bare back a dozen
times, and then told him to dust, or I'd serve him worse. He left, but
there was an ugly look in his eyes, and I knew well enough he'd try to
get even."

"How long ago was this?"

"Most a year. It's a long time, but an Indian never forgets an injury or
an insult, and I knew that he was only bidin' his time. So I always went
armed, and kept a good lookout. It was only this mornin' that he caught
me at a disadvantage. I'd been taking a walk, and left my gun at home.
He was prowlin' round, and soon saw how things stood. He'd have killed
me sure, if you hadn't come in the nick of time."

"I a