The latter, however, made no reply.  He merely shook his head and glanced furtively and anxiously around.  This Weston noticed, and it aroused his curiosity.

“What’s the matter, Sconda?  You seem to be nervous.  Do you expect more shooting?”

“Sconda no savvey.  More bad white man.  Ugh!”

“Well, then, let us get away from this place as soon as possible.”

“What about Dan?” Reynolds asked.  “We can’t leave him here.”

“That’s true,” and Weston turned toward the wounded man.  “He deserves to stay, though, for his base treachery.  But we cannot do that, so must tote him back to the cabin.  It will be a hard task, and the villain isn’t worth it.  But, come to think of it, we must not let him die until we hear his story.  There may be others in this plot, and we must find out who they are.  Come, Sconda, give us a hand.  Surely four of us can carry him.”

An exclamation from Natsu caused the white men to look quickly around, and as they did so they saw Sconda some distance away, bounding like a deer from rock to rock.  At first Weston stared in amazement.  Then he called and ordered him to come back.  For the first time in his life Sconda paid no heed to his master’s command, but sped rapidly forward, and in a few minutes was entirely hidden from view.

CHAPTER XXV

BY THE INLAND LAKE

It seemed to Glen as if the morning would never wear away as she sat and guarded her prisoner.  The severe strain was showing its effect upon her face, which was unusually pale.  Her eyes never once left the man before her, and the revolver, as it rested lightly upon her lap, was pointed straight toward him, ready for immediate action.  She would not allow Curly to speak, and whenever he made the attempt she sternly checked him and menacingly raised her weapon of authority.  Her brain was very active, and her thoughts were by no means happy ones.  Suppose her father and lover should be shot ere Sconda could do anything, what would be the outcome? she asked herself.  She was well aware that Sconda and Natsu would be more than a match for Dan, but he might escape and get back to the cabin first.  Her face became stern as she thought of this, and she made up her mind what she would do.  She could deal with Curly all right, and settle his account.  She would then have only Dan to face.  Anyway, she was determined that she would never fall into the hands of those two villains so long as her revolver held true and while the last cartridge remained.

And thus she retained her post through the slow morning hours.  The sun rode high in the heavens and beat upon her throbbing head.  Birds flitted and sang around her, and squirrels chattered and scolded among the trees.  Would Sconda never return? she wondered.  What could be keeping him!  At times she felt that she could endure the strain no longer, but when she realised how much was at stake she always nerved herself by a mighty effort.