on of the white
men, and took to the mountains, where they lived by raiding the ranches
in the neighborhood, and maintaining a sort of defensive partnership
with Whipple's band of white outlaws.

After a silence, during which every one was turning these facts over in
his mind, Ted turned to Clay, and said:

"What about the Indians, Clay?"

"I saw their tracks."

"Where?"

"In the coulee back of the house."

"Near the house!" exclaimed Ted. "That's getting pretty close to home.
Did they see you?"

"I reckon they did. I took a shot at one of them, an' he left a red
trail in the snow."

"That's bad, Clay. You shouldn't have shot at him."

"Shouldn't, eh? Well, you never saw a fellow from ole Kaintuck that
would stand up an' let a man shoot at him without sending his
compliments back--if he happened to be packin' his gun at the time."

"Did they shoot at you, then?"

"One of them did. It was like this: I was ridin' in from the west, where
I had seen a small bunch of strays which I turned back to the main herd.
As I was comin' up to the big coulee I saw something move against the
snow. At first I thought it was a grouse, and was just going to take a
shot at it when I looked again. Then, by jinks, I saw that it was the
head of an Indian shoved up over the edge of the coulee.

"His back was turned to me, and he was watching the house. I pulled in
my pony and kept my eye on him for several minutes.

"Then I saw Mrs. Graham come out of the house and stand for a moment on
the back porch.

"The Indian rose up and brought a rifle to his shoulder. At that I let
out a yell, and he turned to me like a flash, and pulled his trigger.
But he was in too much of a hurry, an' the ball whistled over my head.

"I had my gun out, an' blazed away. The Indian yawped as if he had been
hit, and disappeared. I got to the coulee as fast as I could, but he had
disappeared."

"Was he the only one?" asked Ted.

"I reckon not, for there were any number of moccasin tracks in the
coulee, and the footprints of white men or Indians who wore boots. There
was a splotch of blood where the Indian had been, and a red trail
leading to where there had been ponies. Then I came on to the house."

Ted was thinking deeply. At last he raised his head.

"This has been a day full of things that may mean a great deal to us,"
he said. "Follansbee has been shot by a member of the Whipple gang, Sol
Flatbush was killed after mutilating our cattle, mor