for
Indians; but not a sign was discovered, until he approached an
exceptionally rocky place, where the trail wound round the masses of
stone at such a sharp angle that the view was less than a dozen feet.

With no thought of danger, Ned walked around this corner, and on the
instant found himself face to face with a swarthy Indian warrior who
must have seen him approaching, and, dismounting from his horse, stood
back and awaited his approach. That astounded look revealed not only
this, but that the Indian was Lone Wolf.

Fate had brought the two together again, at the very time the heart of
the weary fugitive was beating high with hope. There was no chance for
retreat or hope of avoiding him. The eyes of the painted Apache glowed
with a demoniac light, and his fingers twitched as he placed his right
hand upon the buckhorn handle of a knife at his girdle.

"You run away--you see well--you lie--now I will cut out your eyes, and
you will not see to run away again!"

There was no doubt that such was the purpose of the warrior, as he
advanced upon the lad, who suddenly thrust his hand into his waistcoat
for his revolver.

It was gone!

During the night it had dropped out without being noticed, and he was
absolutely defenseless. He was breathless, paralyzed with terror.

"Yes, I will cut out your eyes, and then you will not see to run away,"
added the chief, striding toward him.

"Hold on thar, my copper-colored friend! This 'ere is a little row you
kin settle with me, instead of that boy thar. Try that knife on my eyes,
and while you're doing it, I'll try mine on yourn."

[Illustration: "THIS 'ERE IS A LITTLE ROW YOU KIN SETTLE WITH ME,
INSTEAD OF THAT BOY THAR."]

It was Tom Hardynge, the scout, who spoke thus opportunely.

CHAPTER XX.

WHITE VS. RED.

The hunter seemed to step forth from some crevice in the rocks, wherein
he had been concealed, and strode forward in such a manner that Lone
Wolf saw him at the very instant the first word was uttered.

The latter withdrew his gaze from the boy and turned with lightning-like
swiftness upon his adversary, while the latter, as cool and
self-possessed as if he were about to slice up an antelope or buffalo,
continued approaching with his hunting knife firmly clasped in his right
hand. The Indian, perceiving the character of the fight, flung his rifle
several yards from him, where it was beyond the reach of both, and
recoiling a single step, put himself i