With the same unhesitating promptness he charged as before.

"If that skull ain't more than six inches thick, it'll go this time,"

muttered Tom, as he gathered all his strength and sent out his fist like the thrust of a piston rod.

But Lone Wolf was expecting it and a quick flirt of the head to one side let the mallet go harmlessly by, while the impetus of his own blow threw Hardynge forward several steps, and narrowly escaped carrying him off his feet altogether. With an exasperating taunt the chief landed a blow upon the face of his antagonist as he shot by, and, catching him about the shoulder before he could recover, flung him to the ground with great violence, falling heavily upon him.

Had the knife of the Apache been in his hand at this juncture he would have ended the struggle in short order; but he was without the means of improving his advantage, and before he knew it he was turned from the chest of the prostrate man. And this critical moment, when the issue of the contest was very doubtful, a second figure came out from the rocks, and approached the combatants. It was that of d.i.c.k Morris, who coolly asked:

"Sha'n't I knock him on the head, Tom, and end this little row?"

"No," fairly shouted the enraged hunter, as they hammered away at each other. "If you do it, I'll knock you on the head. This is a fair and square fight in which the best man wins. If I can't knock thunder and lightning out of this redskin, let him knock it out of me. Stand back!"

"All right," replied d.i.c.k, very contentedly, walking to where the enthralled Ned Chadmund stood and asking him whether he wished to stake a little wager on the result.

The appearance of this third party ended the contest in a manner neither of the whites antic.i.p.ated. The words of Tom Hardynge, declining the a.s.sistance of his friend, were understood by Lone Wolf; but, treacherous and faithless himself, he regarded them as only a part of a trap in which he was to be caught, and his whole purpose was to get out of the dilemma as quickly as possible. However hopeful he might be in a single hand-to-hand encounter with one of the men, he was not vain enough to think that he could master both. In their struggling they had approached quite close to the cliff, and Lone Wolf made a determined attempt to throw Tom over. By a little feinting and dodging, he managed to get him between himself and the edge and then began pressing him furiously.

"That's your game, is it?" exclaimed the scout. "If it is, sail in, and may the best man win."

Both were striking very wildly, when, hastily parrying several blows, Hardynge made a sudden rush, closed in, grasping the chief around the waist, and, lifting him clear of the ground, ran to the edge of the cliff and flung him over!

But Hardynge was outwitted. This was the very thing for which Lone Wolf had maneuvered so slyly. The cliff was not more than twenty feet in height, and when the hunter peered over the margin, expecting to see his enemy dashed to pieces at a great depth below, he saw him land as lightly as a panther upon his feet and then whisk out of sight among the rocks.

"Thunder and blazes!" he exclaimed, when he comprehended the little trick that had been played upon him. Jerking off his hat, he slammed it impatiently to the ground, and turning to his comrade, said:

"Did you ever see a bigger fool than me?"

"Don't think I ever did," was the serious reply.

"Never thought what the Injun was after till it was too late to hinder him."

"I knowed it all the time. This ere little chap could have seed as much himself," was the tantalizing reply.

"Why didn't you sing out, then, when you seed me pick him up and start to throw him over?"

"'Cause I thought you was only fooling. Do you know there's a reward of five hundred dollars offered for Lone Wolf, dead or alive? See what you have lost?"

"Who offered it?" demanded Tom.

"Colonel Chadmund told me that old Captain Alvarez, that owns a big ranch near Santa Fe, lost a thousand cattle by a stampede that he had got up, and he's the man that has promised a hundred times to give that reward to whoever wipes out the chief."

"Anything else to tell?" said Hardynge, disgustedly.

"Yes. When Colonel Chadmund told me that, he punched me slyly in the side, and says, 'And yes, d.i.c.k, I'll put another five hundred on top of it.'"

"Hain't you got a little more such news?" asked poor Tom, who was wondering whether it was possible to feel any more angered or disgusted with himself than he now felt.

"No--that'll do just now. I think you've had enough."

CHAPTER XXI.

FRIENDS TOGETHER.

Up to this stage the two hunters had found no opportunity to pay much heed to Ned, who had been rescued so narrowly from horrible cruelty. Tom Hardynge now advanced to where he stood, and thrust out his hand, his face one broad grin.

"How are ye, my lad? We've had a long tramp for ye, and come mighty nigh bein' too late."

"Have _you_ been looking for me?" asked the boy, in amazement.

"Yes, sir, we've been on the hunt for some days."

"How is that?"

d.i.c.k Morris briefly explained how Colonel Chadmund had received warning through a friendly Indian runner of the projected ma.s.sacre of the cavalry escort. Knowing that it was impossible to forward reinforcements to them in time, and that Lone Wolf was aiming specially to get his hands upon his little boy, he had sent d.i.c.k post-haste with orders to intercept Tom, if possible, and both had been instructed to secure possession of the lad by any possible means in their power.

After a cautious investigation at the outset, when they arrived at Devil's Pa.s.s, they found that the ma.s.sacre had taken place almost twenty-four hours before. The sight was a terrible one, such as made even them shudder. The horses and soldiers lay scattered here and there, just as they fell. The beasts of the forest had offered them no disturbance, probably because there were more inviting feasts elsewhere.

But in the warm summer air the b.l.o.o.d.y, hacked faces were discolored and swollen beyond recognition. The hunters rode carefully along, and counted the whole thirteen, and when they found the overturned and wrecked ambulance and the dead horse a short distance beyond they were able to hit the right theory. It was in this carriage that young Chadmund had been riding when he was captured, and the scouts set out at once upon the trail of the Apache war-party.

It was all easy enough to follow the warriors, but Tom and d.i.c.k were hopelessly puzzled when they came up with the redskins, saw Lone Wolf and his brother warriors, and made the discovery that the boy was not with them. It was a most trying problem to them--the only solution being that they had grown impatient with the boy and put him to death; and yet, as the trail had been followed and narrowly watched, it seemed impossible that such a thing should have taken place without the pursuers finding it out before this. d.i.c.k Morris suggested that the captive, by some providential interference, had managed to give them the slip, but Tom could not believe it among the possibilities. If such were the case, there were no means of learning when or where it had been done, and the scouts were as completely cut off from pursuit of the boy as were the Apaches themselves.

In this dilemma there was little to do except to make a general hunt for him, keeping all the time within striking distance of the Apaches, as they did not think that the fugitive could have gotten very far from them. The hunters carefully secreted their animals, and tramped over the mountains and through ravines, gorges, and woods, until, on this eventful forenoon they discovered Lone Wolf ahead of them, acting as though he had detected something particularly gratifying. The shrewd scouts suspected the truth on the instant. The Apache was also searching for the lad, and, guided by a greater knowledge, had discovered him. And so he crouched down in the rocks, not knowing that two other figures shortly after crouched behind him. Then, after the story had been told, as the three moved off together, d.i.c.k Morris having picked up the rifle which Lone Wolf cast from him as the contest was about to open, Ned Chadmund gave him his version of that terrible attack and slaughter in Devil's Pa.s.s, and of what had followed since. When he came to explain the clever manner in which he dodged the Apaches, his listeners were delighted. d.i.c.k slapped him upon the back, and Tom insisted upon shaking hands again. It was a favorite way the old fellow had of expressing his overwhelming delight at anything he saw or heard.

"If you'll put yourself under our trainin'," he added, "we'll make a hunter of ye in the course of a dozen or fifteen years, more or less."

But Ned had no interest in hunting matters just then. He wanted to get out of that dangerous neighborhood, and to reach Fort Havens with as little delay as possible.

"How far is it?" he asked, as the trio moved along the trail.

"We can make it in two or three days, I think," said Tom. "Some parts of the way, though, is rather rough, and it may take us longer."

"You don't expect to walk it, do you?"

They a.s.sured him that they had no intention of doing any such thing.

Their horses were secreted in a gorge about three miles distant, and as soon as they could be reached they would mount them and speed away for Fort Havens.

"And we'll do it, too, at a gait that'll beat any mustang that Lone Wolf has ever straddled," added d.i.c.k, exultingly. "When a chap goes into the Injun country, he must fetch the best hoss flesh he can steal."

"But I haven't any horse," said Ned, with a laugh. "What's to become of me when you're riding?"

Tom explained that there could be no difficulty about that. Such a trifling additional weight would not be suspected by either of the animals.

"Where do you suppose Lone Wolf is?" asked the boy, looking furtively around, unable to free himself of the belief that they were not through with him yet.

"He's gone back to his party; they've split since you left 'em. About thirty started yesterday forenoon for the Apache villages to the south'ard, and the tother twenty are in camp off here a mile or so."

As Tom spoke, he pointed to the west, in among the mountains, and in a direction at right angles to what he was pursuing himself.