id. "If you have been
talking to him it has done him more harm than good. You had better go
away and leave him among strangers."

In a further conversation Dick learned that the backwoodsman, Peter Day,
and his wife were ready to take charge of the invalid for fair pay, and
could be trusted to do their best, and it was arranged to leave Mr.
Arbuckle at the house, while Dick returned to camp, hunted up Pawnee
Brown and Jack Rasco and tried to get on the track of the man of the red
mask.

"And if I ever get hold of him I'll--I'll--mash him," said Dick, and the
look on his youthful but stern face told that he meant just what he
said. The western idea of shooting had not yet entered his mind, but woe
to Louis Vorlange if his villainy was once unmasked.

"Do not worry about me, father," said Dick taking his departure. "I will
take care of myself, and I am sure that either Pawnee Brown, Jack Rasco
or myself can get on the track of the rascal who robbed and struck you
down."

"Be cautious, Dick," murmured the sick man. "Be cautious--for you are
all the world to me!" and he kissed his son affectionately.

"Who could have attacked father?" he murmured, half aloud. "It was a
dastardly thing to do. I must find out, even if I have to remain in the
city. But who knows but what it was one of the boomers? Perhaps the man
saw father had money and only asked about his papers to put him off the
track. As a rule, the boomers are as honest as men can be, but there are
several hang-dog faces among them."

Dick had covered a distance of half a mile and was within sight of the
spot where he had been rescued by Pawnee Brown from a watery grave, when
a murmur of voices broke upon his ear, coming from a thicket down by the
river bank. The murmur grew louder and he paused to listen.

Suddenly two pistol shots rang out, followed by a cry of pain and rage.
There was a brief silence, then came the words which made Dick's heart
almost stop beating:

"Now I'll fix you for helping to run me out of town, Jack Rasco! I never
forget my enemies!"

CHAPTER XI.

A STRANGE LETTER.

To return to Pawnee Brown at the time when he made the double discovery
that Yellow Elk, the rascally Indian, was riding his stolen mare, Bonnie
Bird, and had as his fair captive Nellie Winthrop, Jack Rasco's niece.

For the moment the great scout was nearly dum founded by the revelation.
He had not met Yellow Elk for several months, and had imagined that the