“It may be,” he thought, after a while, “that these men know how to follow a trail faster than the others, and they have gone on ahead, while the others are coming after them. I should think Lone Wolf would do anything in the world to catch Sut, who has done him so much injury.”
Night was drawing on apace, darkness being due in less than an hour. Fred was naturally perplexed and alarmed, for he could not help feeling that he was in a most perilous position, regarding which he should have had more advice from the scout before his departure. The only thing that seemed prudent for him to do was to wait until dark and then quietly steel out and shift his position. It looked very much as if he could take care of himself for the night, at least, but he did not see how he could take care of the mustang, which had already changed hands so often, and which was so necessary to their safety.
“Sut said he expected to be home by dark, and I wish he’d come,” was the thought that passed through his mind over and over again as he looked into the gathering darkness and listened for the sound of his friends.
But the stillness remained unbroken and the shadows deepened, until he saw that the night was fully come, and he could move about without danger of being fired upon from a distance. The moon was late in rising, so that the gloom was deep enough to hide one person from another, when the distance was extremely slight. Although aware of this, Fred was afraid of some flank movement upon the part of the Apaches, before he could get out of their reach. The suspicion that there were two men besides would make the redskins very cautious in their movements, but a little manoeuvring on their part might reveal the truth, in which case the situation of the lad would be critical in the extreme.
Fred had nerved himself to the task of stealing around the corner of a large rock and off into the darkness, when he was startled by a quick, sudden stamp of the horse. There might have been nothing in this; but, recalling what the scout had said about the skill of the animal as a sentinel, he had no doubt but that it meant that he had scented danger and that the redskins were close at hand. Scarcely pausing to reflect upon the advisability of the step, the lad began crawling in the direction of the animal, not more then twenty feet away.
Before he had passed half the distance he was certain that a redskin was at some deviltry, for the horse stamped and snorted, and showed such excitement, that Fred forgot his own danger, and, springing to his feet, ran rapidly toward the animal. Just as he reached him, he saw that an Indian had him by the bridle, and was trying to draw him along, the mustang resisting, but still yielding a step at a time. In a short time, if the thief was not disturbed, he would have gotten him beyond the possibility of rescue, he seeming more anxious to secure the steed than the scalp of its owner. With never a thought of the consequences, Fred raised his revolver and blazed away with both barrels, aiming as best he could straight at the marauding Apache, who, with a howl of rage and terror, dropped the bridle of the mustang and bounded away among the rocks.
“There! I guess when you want to borrow a horse again, you’ll ask the owner.”
The lad was reminded of his imprudence by the flash of a rifle almost in his face, and the whizz of the bullet which grazed his cheek. But he still had two loaded chambers in his revolver, and he wheeled for the purpose of sending one of them at least, into the warrior that had made an attempt upon his life. At this critical juncture the mustang displayed an intelligence that was wonderful.
The Apache who was stealing upon him was near the steed, which, without any preliminary warning, let out both his heels, knocking the unsuspecting wretch fully a dozen feet and stretching him, badly wounded, upon the ground.
“I wonder how many more there are?” exclaimed the lad, looking about him, and expecting to see others rushing forward from the gloom.