hand up from the shoulder
to the neck, the fingers working their way toward Cameron's face. Well
did Cameron know the savage trick which the Indian had in mind. In a
few minutes more those fingers would be in Cameron's eyes pressing the
eyeballs from their sockets. It was now the Indian's turn to jibe.

"Huh!" he exclaimed. "White man no good. Soon he see no more."

The taunt served to stimulate every ounce of Cameron's remaining
strength. With a mighty effort he wrenched the Indian's hand from his
face, and, tearing himself free, swung his clenched fist with all his
weight upon the Indian's neck. The blow struck just beneath the jugular
vein. The Indian's grip relaxed, he staggered back a pace, half stunned.
Summoning all his force, Cameron followed up with one straight blow upon
the chin. He needed no other. As if stricken by an axe the Indian
fell to the earth and lay as if dead. Sinking on the ground beside him
Cameron exerted all his will-power to keep himself from fainting. After
a few minutes' fierce struggle with himself he was sufficiently revived
to be able to bind the Indian's hands behind his back with his belt.
Searching among the brushwood, he found the Indian's knife, and cut from
his leather trousers sufficient thongs to bind his legs, working with
fierce and concentrated energy while his strength lasted. At length as
the hands were drawn tight darkness fell upon his eyes and he sank down
unconscious beside his foe.

"There, that's better! He has lost a lot of blood, but we have checked
that flow and he will soon be right. Hello, old man! Just waking up,
are you? Lie perfectly still. Come, you must lie still. What? Oh,
Copperhead? Well, he is safe enough. What? No, never fear. We know the
old snake and we have tied him fast. Jerry has a fine assortment of
knots adorning his person. Now, no more talking for half a day. Your
wound is clean enough. A mighty close shave it was, but by to-morrow you
will be fairly fit. Copperhead? Oh, never mind Copperhead. I assure you
he is safe enough. Hardly fit to travel yet. What happened to him? Looks
as if a tree had fallen upon him." To which chatter of Dr. Martin's
Cameron could only make feeble answer, "For God's sake don't let him
go!"

After the capture of Copperhead the camp at Manitou Lake faded away, for
when the Police Patrol under Jerry's guidance rode up the Ghost River
Trail they found only the cold ashes of camp-fires and the debris that
remains a