thus
throwing them entirely off his track, but he was afraid that he
would be cast into relief again when he reached the crest, and so
continued down the depression.

He heard shouts behind him, and it seemed to him that they were
not now the shouts of triumph, but the shouts of chagrin.
Clearly, he was gaining because after the cries ceased, the sound
of hoof beats came but faintly. He urged his horse to the last
ounce of his speed and soon the sound of the pursuing hoofs
ceased entirely.

The depression ended and he was on the flat plain. It was still
cloudy, with no moon, but his eyes were used enough to the dark
to tell him that the appearance of the country had changed. It
now lay before him almost as smooth as the surface of a table,
and never relaxing the swift gallop, he turned at another angle.

He was confident now that the Sioux could not overtake or find
him. A lone object in the vast darkness, there was not a chance
in a hundred for them to blunder upon him. But the farther away
the better, and he went on for an hour. He would not have
stopped then, but the good pony suddenly began to quiver, and
then halted so abruptly that Dick, rifle and all, shot over his
shoulder. He felt a stunning blow, a beautiful set of stars
flashed before his eyes, and he was gone, for the time, to
another land.

When Dick awoke he felt very cold and his head ached. He was
lying flat upon his back, and, with involuntary motion, he put
his hand to his head. He felt a bump there and the hand came
back damp and stained. He could see that the fingers were
red--there was light enough for that ominous sight, although
the night had no yet passed.

Then the flight, the danger, and his fall all came back in a rush
to Dick. He leaped to his feet, and the act gave him pain, but
not enough to show that any bone was broken. His rifle, the
plainsman's staff and defense, lay at his feet. He quickly
picked it up and found that it, too, was unbroken. In fact, it
was not bent in the slightest, and here his luck had stood him
well. But ten feet away lay a horse, the pony that had been a
good friend to him in need.

Dick walked over to the pony. It was dead and cold. It must
have been dead two to three hours at least, and he had lain that
long unconscious. There was a bullet hole in its side and Dick
understood now the cause of those two shivers, like the momentary
stopping of a clock's mechanism. The gallant horse had