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.

But the repulse for the time being was effectual and the way was clear.

“I guess I’d better get out of here,” was the thought of Fred, “for it ain’t likely they will leave me alone very long when they’ve found out that I’m the only one left.”

With revolver in hand he moved hurriedly backward among the rocks, and, after going a few rods, halted and looked for his pursuers, whom he believed to be close behind him.  There was something coming, but a moment’s listening satisfied him that it was his mustang, which seemed to comprehend the exigency fully as well as he did himself.

“I don’t know about that,” he reflected.  “They can follow him better then they can me, and he can’t sneak along like I can.  If they catch him, they’ll be pretty sure to catch me.”

He started to flee, not from the Indians only, but from the mustang as well.  But the speed of the latter was greater than his own, and, after several attempts to dodge him, he gave it up.

“If you can travel so well,” reflected Fred, “you might as well carry me on your back.”