Bud hurried away with two of the boys, and Ted and the others composed themselves to await developments.  In the meantime, Stella told Ted the details of her capture.  Since she had been a prisoner she had been well treated, so far as most of the men were concerned, although Shan Rhue had insisted on seeing her every day, and had told her that he was going to take her away to the North and make her marry him.  She had defied him, and had scorned him so scathingly that he had put many petty persecutions on her, and had deprived her of her liberty for revenge.

“How did you happen to find me?” asked Stella, after she told all that had happened to her.

“Little Dick was captured by an Indian, and while he was being brought here the pony Spraddle stumbled and threw him.  A small looking-glass which was slung around his neck fell off, and Dick picked it up and brought it to camp.”

“The Indian was Pokopokowo,” said Stella.

“That was his name.”

“I tried in every way to get a message out to you, but it seemed impossible.  Then I hit upon the mirror, ripped the back off it, and made my cryptogram on it with a pin.  I let Pokopokowo see it, and when he saw that there was a picture on it, and I told him it was good medicine, he wanted it.  Of course, I let him take it, hoping that it would be taken outside, and that you would chance to see it, and so learn where I was.”

“It was a very clever idea, and I doubt but for the mirror we should have been able to get here in time.  It was little Dick who saved you.”

“Yes, little Dick and big Ted.  Ted, you are wonderful!”

Below, in the hole, there were signs of activity.  Men were rushing here and there, saddling horses, packing mules, filling their cartridge belts, and getting ready for some sort of action.

“They have seen the war fires on the hills,” said Ted, “and are getting ready for their raid upon the settlers.  Evidently they do not know that the gate to the outside is guarded, and they think that we are gone, having succeeded in getting you.”

Having finished their preparations for departure, an old Indian rode forth on a pony decorated with eagle feathers.

“That is old Flatnose, the head chief,” said Ted.

Flatnose was painted for war, and as he rode toward the passage from the Hole in the Wall he swung his rifle above his head and shouted a guttural command, at which a war whoop, shrill and terrifying, went up from the Indians, followed by a hoarse shout from the white renegades.

“Now, we’ll see some fun,” whispered Ted to Stella, who was lying on the crest of the hole beside him, watching the proceedings below.  “I guess Bud has got there by this time, and is ready to protect the opening out to the valley.”

Only a few minutes had passed before there came to their ears a volley of rifle shots, followed by yells of fear, and the whites and Indians came rushing back into the hole, scrambling and falling over one another in confusion.