"I should like to know when the horse got away," said Scott, as he and Tom rode on side by side; "then we could calculate how far we should have to go before overtaking him."

"He wouldn't be likely to travel all the time, would he?" asked Tom.

"Probably not. He may have gone only a mile or two. Are your eyes good?"

"Pretty good."

"Look about, then, and see if you can anywhere see anything of the rover."

Scott and Tom, drawing rein, looked searchingly in all directions; but nowhere was the lost animal visible.

"Somebody may have found him," suggested Tom.

"That may be. If so, we have a harder job before us."

The prairie was not quite level, but was what is called a rolling prairie, and this limited the view. Otherwise it would have been easy for a person, whose sight was keen, to have distinguished an object as large as a horse at a distance of many miles.

"Are you sure we are on the right track, Mr. Scott?" asked Tom.

"Yes, I can see by the trail."

"I can see no hoof-marks."

"Not just here; but look closely, and you will see slight marks of disturbance in the grass. As long as these signs last we need have no doubts as to our being on the right track."

"The same trail will lead us back to our party," said Tom.

"Yes, I shouldn't like to part from them in this country. It would be rather a bad place to be lost without provisions."

They had ridden about five miles, when the trail became clearer and better defined. In fact, the marks in the prairie grass appeared more numerous than a single horse would be likely to make.

Scott looked grave.

"We will halt here a moment, Tom," he said. "I want to examine the trail."

"Shall I get off my horse?"

"No; it is not necessary."

Scott dismounted and walked about, closely examining the marks in the grass.

Finally he looked up.

"I begin to think it doubtful whether we shall recover Dan," he said.

"Why?"

"He has been found and carried off," was the reply. "Do you see the double trail?"

"Yes," said Tom, after a brief examination.

"It means that a horseman has found Dan, and led him away. This rather complicates matters."

"What do you think we had better do?" inquired Tom.

"That requires consideration. I could tell better if I knew by whom the horse had been found. The finder may be honest, and would, in that case, surrender it on our appearing, and claiming him. But, again, he may be dishonest, and resist our claims."

"We are two to one," said Tom stoutly.

"We don't know that. The man may belong to a party."

"The members of his party would know that the horse was not his."

"Quite true, if the party was composed of decent persons, like our own; but that is not certain."

"Then will you go back without Dan?" asked Tom.

"I don't want to do that. In fact I should be ashamed to. Captain Fletcher would conclude that he might as well have sent Peabody; and I am not anxious to be classed with him."

"Nor I," said Tom, smiling.

"So the only thing is to push on, and make what discoveries we may."

"All right," said Tom cheerfully.

They rode on for a couple of miles, having no difficulty in following the trail, until they reached the brow of a small eminence. Here they were greeted with a sight that startled them. A group of a dozen Indians were reclining on the grass, with their horses fastened near them. Startled as they were, they detected the animal of which they were in search among the Indian horses.

"We've walked into a trap with our eyes open, Tom," said Scott, halting his horse mechanically. His bronzed face was a little pale, for he knew well the character of the savages before him, the hopelessness of escape, and the terrible fate that probably awaited them.

"Shall we turn and fly, Mr. Scott?" asked Tom hurriedly.

"It would be of no use, Tom. We must stay and face the music."

Upon the appearance of the two friends the Indians had sprung to their feet, and the colloquy was scarcely over before there was an Indian at each bridle-rein. They made signs, easily understood, for Tom and Scott to dismount.

"Stop a minute," said Scott, with creditable coolness, considering the great peril in which he knew himself to be. "Is there any one here who speaks English?"

An elderly Indian stepped forward quickly, and said, "Speak, white man. I speak English a little."

"Good," said Scott; "then I want you to tell your friends here that I came after a horse that left our camp last night. Do you understand?"

The Indian inclined his head.

"There he is," continued Scott, pointing with his finger to Dan. "Give him to me, and I will go away."

The interpreter turned to his companions, and repeated what Scott had said. Evidently it was not favorably received, as Scott could see by the menacing looks that were turned upon him. He waited, with some anxiety, for the answer to his claim. He had to wait for some minutes, during which the Indians appeared to be consulting. It came at last.

"The white man has lied," said the Indian sententiously. "The horse is ours."

"That's pretty cool, eh, Tom?" said Scott, provoked; not only by the denial of his claim, but by the charge of falsehood.

Tom did not answer, thinking silence more prudent.

The Indian interpreter looked suspiciously from one to the other. He understood what "cool" meant, but was not familiar with the special sense in which Scott used it.

"I will prove that the horse is ours," said Scott. "Here, Dan!"

The horse whinnied, and tried to reach Scott, upon hearing his name pronounced.

"There," said Scott triumphantly, "you see the horse knows me. I have not lied."

The speech was an imprudent one. Indians are not lawyers, but they understand the familiar saying, that "possession is nine points of the law." That the horse was a valuable one they understood; and they had no intention of parting with him. Still more, they looked with covetous eyes at the horses ridden by Scott and the boy, and they had already made up their minds to seize them also.

"The white man is a magician," said the interpreter. "He has bewitched the horse. The horse is ours. He has always belonged to us."

"It's no use, Tom," said Scott. "They are bound to keep Dan, and I don't see how we can help it. We had better give him up, and get away if we can. All the same, the fellow is an outrageous liar."

He spoke in a low voice, and the interpreter, though listening attentively, did not quite catch what was said.

"I guess you are right," said Tom.

Scott turned to the interpreter.

"Well, if you think it is yours, squire, I reckon you will keep it. So we'll say good morning, and go."

He pulled the rein, but the Indian at his bridle did not let go.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said Scott. "We are going."

"White man must stay," said the Indian interpreter decisively.

"Why?" demanded Scott impatiently.

"He has tried to steal Indian's horse," said the wily savage.

"Well, by gosh; that's turning the tables with a vengeance," ejaculated Scott. "They're rather ahead of white rogues, Tom. Will you let the boy go?" he asked.

"White boy stay, too," answered the interpreter, after a brief reference to the leader of the Indian party.

"Tom," said Scott rapidly, and not appearing to be excited, lest his excitement should lead to suspicion, "none of them are mounted. Lash your horse, and tear from the grasp of the man that holds him; then follow me. It is our only chance."

Tom's heart beat rapidly. He knew that all his nerve was called for; but he did not falter.

"Give the signal," he said.

"One, two, three!" said Scott rapidly. Simultaneously both lashed their horses. The startled animals sprang forward. The grips of the Indians, who were not suspecting any attempts at escape, were already relaxed, and before they were fully aware of what was intended our two friends were galloping away.