ng as his eyes fell upon the wagon where little Ned and
Nell lay sleeping, and darkening with menace and suspicion as he took
one swift look at Manuelito, cowering there over the fire.

"Blast that monkey-hearted greaser!" he muttered. "I believe he would
knife the whole party just to get the horses and slip away. I'll keep my
ears open to the west--but I'll have my eyes on you."

Once out at his chosen station, Pike found himself in a position where
he could "cover" three important objects. Here, close at his right hand,
between him and the lake, the horses and mules were browsing peacefully
and as utterly undisturbed as though there were not an Apache within a
thousand miles. To his rear, about fifty yards, were the two wagons, the
little camp-fire and flitting restlessly about it the slouching form of
Manuelito. In front of him, close at hand, nothing but a dark level of
open prairie; then a stretch of impenetrable blackness; then, far away
towards the western horizon, that black, piney ridge, stretching from
north to south across the trail they had come along that day; and right
there among the pines--Pike judged it to be several miles south of the
road--there still glared and flamed that red beacon that his long
service in Arizona told him could mean to the Apaches only one
thing--"Close in!"--and well he knew that with the coming morn all the
renegades within range would be gathered along their path, and that if
they got through Sunset Pass without a fight it would be a miracle.

The night was still as the grave; the skies cloudless and studded with
stars. One of these came shooting earthward just after he took his post,
and seemed to plunge into vacancy and be lost in its own combustion over
towards Jarvis Pass behind him. This gave him opportunity to glance
backward again, and there was Manuelito still cowering over the fire.
Then once more he turned to the west, watching, listening.

Many a year had old Pike served with the standards of the cavalry. All
through the great civil war he had born manful, if humble part, but with
his fifth enlistment stripe on his dress coat, a round thousand dollars
of savings and a discharge that said under the head of "Character," "A
brave, reliable and trustworthy man," the old corporal had chosen to add
to his savings by taking his chances with Captain Gwynne, hoping to
reach Santa Fe and thence the Kansas Pacific to St. Louis, to betterment
of his pocket and to the service o