ends, and he hardly knew whether to rejoice or to be alarmed at the
shape matters had just then taken. True, Tom Hardynge was speeding away
on his fleet-footed mustang for Fort Havens, but it would take a long
time to reach there and return. There was something startling in the
thought that a man and a boy were all that were left to oppose the
advance of the force of the Apaches from below. What was to prevent
their swarming upward and overwhelming them? Nothing, it may be said,
but the strong arm of Dick Morris. He might have been a Hercules, and
still unable to stem the tide, but for the vast advantage given him by
nature in constructing Hurricane Hill. He could be approached by the
enemy only in single file. Dick, however, was of the opinion that
something of the kind would be attempted, for the Apaches could not but
know the errand of him who had so nicely outwitted them.

"Ain't there some way of blocking up the way?" asked Ned, as they
discussed the plan.

"I've been thinkin' it over, and there is," returned Morris, crossing
his legs, and scratching his head in his thoughtful way. "Three years
ago, me and Kit Carson had to scoot up here to get out of the reach of
something like two hundred Comanches, under that prime devil
Valo-Velasquiz. They shot Kit's horse, and mine dropped dead just as we
reached the bottom of the hill, so we couldn't do anythin' more in the
way of hoss-flesh.

"Them Comanches hated Kit and me like pison; they knowed us both, and
they went for us in a way that made us dance around lively; but it was
no go, and we tumbled 'em back like tenpins, but they kept things so hot
that me and Kit tipped over a big rock in the path. Of course they could
climb that easy enough, but it gave us so much more chance that they
didn't try it often, and they fell back and tried the Apache
dodge--waiting until hunger and thirst made us come down."

"How was it you got out of the trouble?"

"It was in a mighty queer way--a mighty queer way. On the next day arter
the brush we had with 'em, a bigger party than ever came up, and we
calc'lated things were goin' to be redhot. But as soon as the two
parties jined, some kind of a rumpus took place. We could see 'em
talkin' in the most excited way, and a high old quarrel was under way.
Kit Carson knowed all about Injins, but he couldn't make out what all
this meant. We was in hope they'd git into a wrangle themselves, and
swaller each other, and I can tell you they