please him for the hound to come within range.

When he took to renewed flight the hound again whined ferociously and
Dick glanced back now and then seeking a shot. Once he caught a glimpse
of two or three dusky figures some distance behind the hound, urging him
on, and his heart throbbed with increased rage. If they presented an
equal target he would fire at them rather than the hound.

He could run no longer, and his gait sank to a walk. His very exhaustion
brought him his opportunity, as the animal came rapidly within range,
and Dick finished him with a single lucky shot. Then, making an extreme
effort, he fled on a long time, and, while he was fleeing, he saw the sun
set and the night come.

The strain upon him had been so great that his nerves and brain were
unsteady. Although the forest was black with night he saw it through a
blood-red mist. Something in him was about to burst, and when he saw a
human figure rising up before him it broke and he fell.

Dick was unconscious a long time. But when he awoke he found himself
wrapped in a blanket, while another was doubled under his head. It was
pitchy dark, but he beheld the outline of a human figure, sitting by his
side. He strove to rise, but a powerful hand on his shoulder pushed him
back, though gently, and a low voice said:

"Stay still, Mr. Mason. We mustn't make any sound now!"

Dick recognized in dim wonder the voice of Sergeant Daniel Whitley.
How he had come there at such a time, and what he was doing now was past
all guessing, but Sergeant Whitley was a most competent man. He knew