Such is the training
and instinct of a true American aboriginal.

While speaking Yellow Elk had leaped through the brush, and now he came
up and peered into Dick's face. Instantly his eyes filled with anger.

"I know white boy; he friend to Pawnee Brown. Indian see him at big
moving."--meaning the camp of the boomers. He had not noticed Dick in the
fight at the cave.

"Yes, Pawnee Brown is my friend," answered Dick. "Where is he now?" he
added, to throw the Indian off the series of questions he was
propounding.

"Pawnee Brown dead!" muttered Yellow Elk simply. "White boy come with
me."

"With you!" ejaculated Dick, a chill creeping up to his heart.

"Yes; come now. No wait, or Yellow Elk shoot!" and again the horse
pistol was raised.

The tone was so ugly that Dick felt it would be useless to hang back.
Yellow Elk pointed with his arm in the direction he wished the lad to
proceed, and away they went, the Indian but a pace behind, and keeping
his pistol where it would be ready for use whenever required.

Dick never forgot that walk in the starlight, taken at about the same
time that Pawnee Brown was floundering in the quicksand. A mile or more
was covered, over prairies, through a wood and across several small
streams, for the fertile Indian Territory abounds in water courses.
Yellow Elk stuck to him like a shadow, and the pistol was continually in
evidence. Yellow Elk had likewise appropriated Dick's weapon, the one
cast to the ground.

Presently a clearing was gained where stood a cabin built of logs. All
about the place was deserted. Going up to the cabin the Indian opened
the door and lit a match.

"White boy go inside and we have talk," said Yellow Elk, when there came
a noise from the woods beyond. At once Yellow Elk pushed Dick into the
cabin and bolted the door from the outside.

"White boy keep quiet or Yellow Elk come in and kill!" he hissed, in a
low but distinct tone. "No make a sound till Indian open door again."

The Indian's words were so terrifying that Dick stood still for several
minutes exactly where he had been thrust. All was pitch dark around him.
He listened, but not a sound reached his ears.

"Where in the world is this adventure going to end?" was the thought
which coursed through his mind.

He wondered what had alarmed Yellow Elk. Was it the approach of some
white friend? Fervidly he prayed it might be.

A low, half-suppressed cough from somewhere close at hand caught his ear