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.

"It's meself that has n't seen or heard the least sign of one of the
spalpeens since the set of sun, and they've been about us all the
time."

"How was it they got here without being seen?"

"There be plenty ways of doing the same. They've found out that we
were watching this pint, and so they slipped round and came the other
way."