An Indian is always ready to make the best of his situation, and Lone Wolf saw that he was fairly caught.  Still, he acted cautiously, in the hope of throwing the young hero off his guard, so as to permit him to crush him as suddenly as if by a panther’s spring.

“If your wigwam is there, it is time you were home,” said Fred.  “We are on the lookout for such customers as you, and if any of the others see you they won’t let you off so easy as I do.  So the best thing is for you to leave.”

Lone Wolf made no direct reply to this, except to take a step toward the side of the lad, as if it were involuntary, and intended to further the convenience of conversation; but Fred suspected his purpose, and warned him back.

“Lone Wolf, if you want to carry your life away with you, you will go at once.  I do n’t want to shoot you, but if you come any nearer or wait any longer, I’ll fire.  I’m tired of holding this gun, and it may go off itself.”

The Apache chief made no answer, but, with his eyes fixed upon the lad, took a step backward, as an earnest of his intention of obeying.  Reaching the log, he hastily clambered over it and speedily vanished like a phantom in the gloom of the wood beyond, leaving the boy master of the field.

CHAPTER V THE APACHES ARE COMING

As soon as Lone Wolf was out of sight, young Munson stepped back in the shadow of the wood, and quickly placed himself behind the trunk of a large tree.  He had learned the nature of the Indian race too well for him to give this precious specimen any chance to circumvent him.  Had he remained standing in the moonlight opening, after the Apache entered the wood, the latter could not have had a better opportunity to pick him off without danger to himself.  Had he meditated any such purpose, when he wheeled to fire the shot there would have been no target visible.

The strained ear of the lad could not detect the slightest rustling that might betray the where-abouts of the dreaded chief, and Fred knew better than to expect any such advantage as that which just permitted to pass through his hands.  But what would Lone Wolf do?  This was the all-important question.  Would he sneak off through the wood and out of the valley, and would he be seen and heard no more that night? or would he return to revenge himself for the injury to his pride?  Was he alone in the grove, or were there a half dozen brother-demons sulking among the undergrowth, like so many rattlesnakes, except that they did not give any warning before striking their blow?  Had any of them visited Mickey or Thompson, and was a general attack about to be made upon the settlement?  Such questions as these surged through the mind of Fred, as he stood leaning against the tree, rifle in hand, listening, looking, and thinking.

Suddenly he gave utterance to a low whistle, which he was accustomed to use as a signal in communicating with Mickey.  It was almost instantly answered, in a way which indicated that the Irishman was approaching.  A minute later the two were together.  The lad hastily related his stirring adventure with the great Apache war-chief, and, as may be imagined, Mickey was dumfounded.