Immediately the soldiers advanced on them and made them prisoners. Each was bound securely and hustled out of the door.
Chester and Hal were not wounded. The former now bent over the body of Jean, in whom he saw there was still a spark of life. He lifted the little man's head gently, and, as he did so, Jean looked at him and spoke:
"Well, they got me," he said quietly. "I thought they would."
"You will be all right in a day or two, Jean," said Chester.
"You can't fool me," was the reply. "I know when I am done for. But I am glad that, before my time came, you were able to put me on the right path. It is better to die thus."
Chester did not reply. There was nothing he could say.
Jean looked at him and smiled, then reached out his hand and clasped
Chester's.
"It's all right," he said, pressing the lad's hand; "but let me give you a word of warning. Do not let any of these Apaches know your real identity. Their arm is long and they never forgive. Good-by."
He pressed the lad's hand, gave a single shudder and his grasp relaxed.
Chester rose to his feet and turned to Hal.
"He is dead," he said quietly.