kly as Henry had done. Then came that silence,
followed in a few minutes by the deep and sinister baying note of the
great hound.

"I reckon I fired too quick, too," said Shif'less Sol. But the hands
that grasped his rifle were damp and cold.

"'Tain't no use," said Tom Ross in a tone of absolute conviction. "I've
seen you and Henry fire afore at harder targets than that, an' hit 'em
every time. You hit this one, too."

"Then why didn't we kill the brute?" exclaimed Henry.

"'Cause lead wuzn't meant to kill him. Your bullets went right through
him an' never hurt him."

Henry forced a laugh.

"Pshaw, Tom," he said. "Don't talk such foolishness.'"

"I never talked solider sense in my life," said Ross.

Henry and Shif'less Sol reloaded their rifles as they ran, and both were
deeply troubled. In all their experience of every kind of danger they
had met nothing so sinister as this, nothing so likely to turn the
courage of a brave man. Twice sharpshooters who never missed had missed
a good target. Or could there be anything in the words of Tom Ross?

They left the warriors some distance behind again and paused for another
rest, until the terrible hound should once more bring the pursuers near.
All five were much shaken, but Tom Ross as usual in these intervals
turned his back upon the others, and began to work with his hunting
knife. Henry, as he drew deep breaths of fresh air into his lungs,
noticed that the sun was obscured. Many clouds were coming up from the
southwest, and there was a damp touch in the air. The wind was rising.

"Looks as if a storm was coming," he said. "It ought to help us."

But Tom Ross solemnly shook his head.

"It might throw off the warriors," he said, "but not the dog. Hark,
don't you hear him again?"

They did hear. The deep booming note, sinister to the last degree, came
clearly to their ears.

"It's time to go ag'in," said Shif'less Sol, with a wry smile. "Seems to
me this is about the longest footrace I ever run. Sometimes I like to
run, but I like to run only when I like it, and when I don't like it I
don't like for anybody to make me do it. But here goes, anyhow. I'll
keep on runnin' I don't know whar."

Sol's quaint remarks cheered them a little, and their feet became
somewhat lighter. But one among them was thinking with the utmost
concentration. Tom Ross, convinced that something was a fact, was
preparing to meet it. He would soon be ready. Meanwhile the darkness
increa