CHAPTER XXVII.

THE END.

“Wall, that ere little matter was settled without any hard words,” muttered the scout, as he rode up the ravine.  “It ain’t the way Lone Wolf generally manages them things, but that affair me and him had, when I took my hoss away from him, I s’pose had something to do with it.”

The scout had considerable cause to feel grateful and pleased over the turn of events.  He had his horse and gun, and it now only remained for him to rejoin his companions.  He had already passed the point where Mickey O’Rooney had left the ravine, and he felt the impropriety of turning back and presuming upon any further indulgence of the Apaches.

Accordingly, he slackened the speed of his mustang until he reached an avenue of escape.  He was forced to go quite a distance before finding one, but he did, at last, and turned his horse into it.

“I don’t know whether that ar Irishman can find the way back to whar we left the younker, but I suppose he’ll try, so I’ll aim at the same p’int.”

The night was pretty well gone, and his mustang had struggled nobly until he showed signs of weariness, and the scout concluded to wait until daylight before pushing his hunt any further.  They were miles away from the Apache camp, and he had no fears of disturbance from that quarter.  So he drew rein in a secluded spot, and sprang to the ground.

At the very moment of doing so, his horse gave a whinny, which was instantly responded to by a whinny from another horse, less than a hundred feet away.

“That’s qua’ar,” muttered the scout, as he grasped his rifle.  “Whar thar’s a hoss in these parts, thar’s generally a man, and whar thar’s a man, you kin set him down as an Injun.  And as this can’t be Lone Wolf, I’ll find out who he is.”

His own mustang being a strayer, he managed to tie him to a small, scrubby bush, after which he moved forward, with caution and stealth, in the direction whence came the whinny that had arrested his attention.  His purpose was to prevent the other animal discovering his approach—­an exceedingly difficult task, as the mustangs of the Southwest are among the very best sentinels that are known, frequently detecting the approach of danger when their masters fail to do so.  However, Sut succeeded in getting so close, that he could plainly detect the outlines of the animal, which was standing motionless, with head erect, and his nose turned in the direction of the other mustang, as though he were all attention, and on the look-out for danger.

The scout paused to study the matter, for he did not understand the precise situation of things.  The mustang which he saw might be only one of a dozen others, whose owners were near at hand, with possible several searching for him.  The conclusion was inevitable that it was necessary for him to reconnoitre a little further before allowing his own position to be uncovered.