HAPTER XVI.

CLEVERLY DONE.

At this moment the Texan heard something.

The noise could not have been any more distinct than that which had
apprised the Comanche of his peril just in time to save himself. It was
so faint, indeed, that it was not until he had listened a few seconds
longer that he could decide the precise point whence it came.

It was at the same end of the cabin, but on the corner opposite to that
where he had detected the warrior. The captain, therefore, was forced to
peep over the edge of the peak, in order to hold his gaze on the point.
This was easy enough, and, as he stealthily peered through the gloom, he
levelled his weapon, in whose use he was as skilful as that of the
Winchester.

He had decided in his mind the precise point where the head of the
Indian would rise to view, and he was resolved not to throw away his
chance this time. The moment he could make sure of his target, he would
perforate it with several bullets, in order to prevent any possible
mistake.

But, though the sound was repeated, the object itself failed to
materialize. It was there, but he could not see it clearly enough to
risk a shot.

Strange that, with all the Texan's experience, this fact did not lead
him to suspect the real cause of the warrior's continued absence!

But at the moment he began speculating, he became convinced that his
enemy was moving. He was there and had betrayed himself.

Everyone knows the extreme difficulty of seeing an object distinctly
when the light is poor, and we concentrate our gaze upon it. That which
is clear at first grows dim and perhaps vanishes altogether from sight.

Something of the kind is noticeable when we try to count the seven stars
of the Pleiades. It is easy enough to fix upon six, but if we gaze too
intently, the seventh modestly withdraws from view.

This was the case for a minute or two with Captain Shirril. The first
glance at the suspicious point showed him the outlines of a head, but
while gazing at it, he began to doubt whether it was there at all. Aware
of the peculiarity named, he turned his eyes toward a spot several feet
removed, and then glanced back to the original point.

The Comanche was there!

The Texan sighted his pistol as best he could in the obscurity, but,
while doing so with all care, the target began to grow dim, until he was
afraid that, if he pressed the trigger, a miss would result, and surely
he could not afford that.

"I'll wait," w