breeze swept down from the Black Hills, and fanned the pink cheeks of
Alice Terry into a vivid glow.

"We cannot go far," said Frank, thoughtfully, "before darkness will
overtake us. Perhaps we had better remain in the canal, here, where
there is both grass and water. In the morning we will take a fresh
start."

The plan was adopted; they camped in the break, or "canal," near where
Alice had been tortured.

Out of his saddle-bags Frank brought forth crackers, biscuit and dried
venison; these, with clear sparkling water from the spring in the
chaparral, made a meal good enough for anybody.

The night was warm; no fire was needed.

A blanket spread on the grass served as a resting-place for Alice; the
strange youth in scarlet lay with his head resting against the side of
his horse. The least movement of the animal, he said, would arouse
him; he was keen of scent and quick to detect danger--meaning the
horse.

The night passed away without incident; as early as four o'clock--when
it is daylight on the plains--Fearless Frank was astir.

Be found the rivulet flowing from the spring to abound with trout, and
caught and dressed the morning meal.

Alice was awake by the time breakfast was ready. She bathed her face