e they come!"

It was evident that the captain had reported the result of his
observations, for as George uttered these last words and lowered his
glass the men broke into a run and dashed across the plain, raising
their charging-yell as they came.

"You fellows who carry double, take the post of honor," commanded Bob;
"ride at the head of the squad.--Say, boys," he added, facing about in
his saddle and speaking to the men behind him, "look out for Wentworth.
There was a look in his eye the last time I saw him that I didn't at all
like, and when he finds out that we have captured one of the Indians, he
may--"

"There he comes now!" exclaimed one of the troopers.

Bob looked toward the camp, and saw that his man had not been mistaken.
Behind the troopers, who were still running forward to meet their
returning comrades, but rapidly overhauling them with every jump of his
horse, was the father of the rescued boys. He rode without saddle,
bridle or hat, his long hair was streaming straight out behind him, he
carried in his hand the rifle with which he had done such deadly work
while he was defending his home, and he was constantly digging his heels
into the sides of his horse, as if he were trying to make him go faster.
The man could have but one object in view: that was Bob's opinion, and
it must have been Captain Clinton's opinion too, judging by his actions.
The latter had raised both hands to his face and stood with his head
thrown back, as if he were shouting out some orders; but if he gave any
they were drowned in the lusty cheers of the approaching troopers, who
ran as if they were engaged in a foot-race.

"That man certainly means mischief," said George.

"I am sure of it," replied the corporal. "But I should act in just the
same way if I were in his place. I'd put an end to that Indian in spite
of all the soldiers that ever wore the 'honored blue;' but that, I know,
would be very wrong, for this red imp is one of the government wards,
and nobody must presume to lay an ugly hand on him."

"What would be done with Mr. Wentworth if he should shoot your
prisoner?" asked George.

"'What would be done with him?'" repeated Bob, bitterly. "Why, he would
be put in arrest before he could say 'Jerusalem!' and the agent of the
Kiowas would insist on his being tried for murder, notwithstanding the
fact that this same Indian was one of the party that burned Mr.
Wentworth's house and carried his children into captivity.