threw himself behind the body and began firing under the neck. A
bullet struck Dick in the left arm and wounded him slightly, but
it did not take any of his strength and spirit.

Dick sought in vain for a sight of the face of his fleeting foe.
He could catch only a glimpse of long, trailing hair beneath the
horse's mane, and then would come the flash of a rifle shot.
Another bullet clipped his side, but only cut the skin.
Nevertheless, it stung, and while it stung the body it stung
Dick's wits also into keener action. He knew that the Sioux
warrior was steadily coming closer and closer in his deadly
circle, and in time one of his bullets must strike a vital spot,
despite the clouds and darkness.

Dick steadied himself, calming every nerve and muscle. Then he
lay down on his stomach on the plain, resting slightly on his
elbow, and took careful aim at the flying pony. He felt some
regret as he looked down the sights. This horse might be as
faithful and true as the one that had carried him to temporary
safety, but he must do the deed. He marked the brown patch of
hair that lay over the heart and pulled the trigger.

Dick's aim was true--the vapors and clouds had not disturbed
it--and when the rifle flashed, the pony bounded into the
and fell dead. But the agile Sioux leaped clear and darted away.
Dick marked his brown body, and then was his opportunity to send
a mortal bullet, but a feeling of which he was almost ashamed
held his hand. His foe was running, and he was no longer
hunted. The feeling lasted but a moment, and when it passed, the
Sioux was out of range. A moment later and his misty foe had
become a part of the solid darkness.

Dick stood upright once more. He had been the victor in a combat
that still had for him all the elements of the ghostly. He had
triumphed, but just in time. His nerves were relaxed and
unstrung, and his hands were damp. He carefully reloaded all the
empty chambers of his repeating rifle, and without looking at the
falling horse, which he felt had suffered for the wickedness of
another, strode away again over the plain, abandoning the rifle
of the fallen Sioux as a useless burden.

It took Dick sometime after his fight with the phantom horseman
to come back to real earth. Then he noticed that both the clouds
and the dampness had increased, and presently something cold and
wet settled upon his face. It was a flake of snow, and a troop
came at its heels, gentle but ins