ating himself
firmly in his saddle. "If we can only place ourselves in a position to
cover those boys, the Indians will not have a chance to touch them, I'll
bet you. My men are all good marksmen."

"And I am a tolerable one myself," said George. "A single hair of those
boys' heads is worth the lives of all the Indians that ever saw the
Staked Plains, and if it becomes necessary to shoot in their defence, I
am ready. There is a high sandhill, and if you will stop here for a few
minutes I will go up and see if I can discover anything."

Bob raised his hand to halt the squad, and George swung himself out of
his saddle. His first care was to lay aside his cap and rifle, and his
next to pull up a quantity of grass and weeds to be used as a screen.
With these in one hand and his field-glass in the other he crept slowly
to the top of the sandhill, and, holding the screen a few inches above
the ground, he pushed his field-glass under it and looked around.

"Aha!" was his mental exclamation, "I shall have good news to carry back
to the boys. There's a deep gully about five miles off, and there must
be a stream of water running through it, or else those willows would not
be growing there. I wish we had got here an hour earlier, for then I
should have had daylight to aid me in making my observations. The
Indians probably halted in that gully a few hours ago, and the question
to be decided now is--Hallo! If that isn't smoke rising among those
trees, what is it? And didn't that little cluster of bushes over there
on the top of that hill shift its position just now?"

George's heart beat wildly as he propounded these inquiries to himself.
He took another long look, and then with a very slow and gradual motion
he deposited his screen upon the sand and backed down to the plain. His
stealthy movements told the troopers that he had seen something.

"Corporal," said he as they rode up to him, "before you ask any
questions let me suggest that you order your men to remove their sabres
as quietly as possibly."

Bob quickly unhooked his own sabre from his belt, and looked at his men,
who made all haste to follow his example. They knew that there could be
but one reason for this order. A steel scabbard hanging by the side of a
careless rider will strike against his spurs with every step his horse
takes, or rattle against his leg as the trooper walks about, giving out
a clear ringing sound that will betray his presence to foes far less
w