el?"

"_Jest as though I wanted to whistle!_" was the curious reply and
placing his finger in his mouth, the fellow gave a sound that would
have done credit to an ordinary locomotive.

"If you make that noise again I'll shoot you," said the Rifleman, now
fairly convinced that mischief was intended. Without heeding his
threat, the sick man arose to the upright position, and with flashing
eyes, repeated the sound.

"I gave you warning," said Dernor, raising his gun, pointing it at his
breast, and pulling the trigger. It missed fire!

"I guess you'll have to fix up that load a little," said Zeke Hunt,
"and afore you can do that, you're likely to have visitors."

The Rifleman clubbed his gun and advanced toward the man. The latter
drew his knife, and said:

"Keep off, Lew Dernor; don't you know me?"

"I've been a fool," said the hunter. "Yes, I know you through your
disguise, _Simon Girty_. I see what you have been trying to do, but you
will never take one of us alive. I hear the tramp of the coming Indians
that he has signaled," he added, addressing Edith, "and there is not a
minute to lose."

So saying, he placed his arm around her waist, and started off at a
rapid run.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE FLIGHT.

The pass was steep and rugged,
The wolves they howled and whined;
But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass,
And left the wolves behind.--MACAULAY.

Moments like these,
Rend men's lives into immortalities.--BYRON.

For a few minutes, the Rifleman ran "like a whirlwind," supporting
entirely the weight of Edith, for none knew better than he the imminent
peril that menaced both. The wood was quite open, so that his way was
not much impeded, and he went at a terrific rate, well aware that all
depended upon gaining an advantage over the Indians at the start.

He had gone but a short distance, when he became convinced that his
only danger was from falling into the hands of his pursuers, as it was
their sole object to make him and Edith prisoners; as a consequence,
there was no danger from being fired at by them. When he deemed it
prudent, he released his hold upon her, and she, half running and being
half carried, flew over the ground at a rate as astonishing to herself
as it was to her pursuers. The latter kept up a series of yells and
outcries, amid which the discordant screeches of Zeke Hunt, now Simon
Girty, the renegade, could be plainly distinguished. Several