“You can’t.  Come, try it,” retorted Betty, catching hold of her skirt.  She could never have allowed a challenge like that to pass.

“Ha! ha!  We are in for a race, Betty. if you beat him, start or no start, you will have accomplished something never done before,” said Col.  Zane.

“Come, Silas, step off twenty paces and make them long ones,” said Betty, who was in earnest.

“We’ll make it forty paces,” said Silas, as he commenced taking immense strides.

“What is Lewis looking at?” remarked Col.  Zane’s wife.

Wetzel, in taking his position for the race, had faced the river.  Mrs. Zane had seen him start suddenly, straighten up and for a moment stand like a statue.  Her exclamation drew he attention of the others to the hunter.

“Look!” he cried, waving his hand toward the river.

“I declare, Wetzel, you are always seeing something.  Where shall I look?  Ah, yes, there is a dark form moving along the bank.  By jove!  I believe it’s an Indian,” said Col.  Zane.

Jonathan darted into the house.  When he reappeared second later he had three rifles.

“I see horses, Lew.  What do you make out?” said Jonathan.  “It’s a bold manoeuvre for Indians unless they have a strong force.”

“Hostile Injuns wouldn’t show themselves like that.  Maybe they ain’t redskins at all.  We’ll go down to the bluff.”

“Oh, yes, let us go,” cried Betty, walking down the path toward Wetzel.

Col.  Zane followed her, and presently the whole party were on their way to the river.  When they reached the bluff they saw two horses come down the opposite bank and enter the water.  Then they seemed to fade from view.  The tall trees cast a dark shadow over the water and the horses had become lost in this obscurity.  Col.  Zane and Jonathan walked up and down the bank seeking to find a place which afforded a clearer view of the river.

“There they come,” shouted Silas.

“Yes, I see them just swimming out of the shadow,” said Col.  Zane.  “Both horses have riders.  Lewis, what can you make out?”

“It’s Isaac and an Indian girl,” answered Wetzel.

This startling announcement created a commotion in the little group.  It was followed by a chorus of exclamations.

“Heavens!  Wetzel, you have wonderful eyes.  I hope to God you are right.  There, I see the foremost rider waving his hand,” cried Col.  Zane.

“Oh, Bessie, Bessie!  I believe Lew is right.  Look at Tige,” said Betty excitedly.

Everybody had forgotten the dog.  He had come down the path with Betty and had pressed close to her.  First he trembled, then whined, then with a loud bark he ran down the bank and dashed into the water.

“Hel-lo, Betts,” came the cry across the water.  There was no mistaking that clear voice.  It was Isaac’s.

Although the sun had long gone down behind the hills daylight lingered.  It was bright enough for the watchers to recognize Isaac Zane.  He sat high on his horse and in his hand he held the bridle of a pony that was swimming beside him.  The pony bore the slender figure of a girl.  She was bending forward and her hands were twisted in the pony’s mane.