The tent occupied by Singing Bird was pitched some distance from that occupied by Mrs. Graham and the two girls, Stella and Hallie, and when she had attended to the wants of Mrs. Graham, she retired to it.

It was early in the evening, and when she saw that her friend had retired, Stella sought out Ted, and told him the story she had heard that afternoon.

At first Ted was inclined to be somewhat incredulous about Woofer's share in it as told by the Indian girl, but when he thought it over and put together certain facts which had come to his attention, and recalled questions, apparently innocent at the time they were asked, which Woofer had put to him from time to time, he began to suspect that the merry cow-puncher was, after all, merely acting a part.

Ted took Bud into consultation, and the three went over the matter carefully.

If it were true that Barrows was after the gold, he had a double cause to do injury to the broncho boys.

There could be no doubt that Barrows, by virtue of his position, was capable of being a very dangerous foe, especially in this part of the country where the boys were virtually alone, and where they had no friends, and were compelled to rely absolutely upon themselves.

That their doings were probably known to Barrows by means of a system of espionage conducted by Woofer, who, Ted now recalled, was in the habit of leaving the camp for long, solitary rides at intervals. What could be easier than when Woofer heard them talking about their plans to ride out and meet a courier sent by Barrows to get the information?

Ted resolved not only to fight Barrows with his own weapons, and to a finish, but to interfere with his plans to get the gold in the mine to which Singing Bird only could guide them.

It was necessary, therefore, to guard the Indian girl closely, and this he proposed to do, and when he had rid the camp of Woofer, and scoured the country for Barrows' spies and sent them off, he would proceed to the mine.

As it was, they were headed in the direction of the Missouri River, and it would not be at all out of their way, or interfere with their business.

Woofer was sitting with the boys around the camp fire, regaling them with stories of cow-punching in various parts of the country, and making of himself a most agreeable companion, and Ted, watching him carefully, could see nothing guilty or suspicious about him.

But that didn't prevent him from keeping his eyes open.

Gradually the camp settled down for the night.

Stella went to bed after she had peeped into the tent occupied by Singing Bird, and satisfied herself that she was sleeping quietly and safely.

One by one the boys rolled themselves in their blankets beside the fire, and dropped into deep slumber.

Woofer had said good night among the first, saying that he was very tired, and would "crawl into the wool," as he expressed it.

Only the night guard was awake, as they rode around and around the sleeping herd, their voices breaking out softly into song as a restless steer arose and sniffed the air and began to walk around.

Ted was lying in his blankets, breathing softly and deeply, evidently sound asleep.

Overhead the stars sparkled brightly, casting a radiance upon the earth that made things several feet distant perfectly observable.

Woofer's blankets had been spread at the edge of the circle farthest from the fire. Ted also slept on the outer rim, and not more than ten feet from Woofer.

It was past midnight, as Ted could tell by the stars, for he was not asleep, although feigning to be.

He lay facing the place where Woofer was circled up in his blankets, when he saw the cow-puncher raise his head cautiously, not more than an inch or two, and look around.

Ted closed his eyelids to a mere crack, for the light from the fire shone on his face, and in that position watched Woofer's movements.

Woofer was very sly and cautious. Ted had observed that he had ostentatiously pulled off his boots when he lay down. Now he could see by the movements of the blankets that he was pulling them on again out of sight.

"That fellow is going to get up in a minute," thought Ted, "and I think I know just what he is going to do."

He had not long to wait, for presently Woofer crawled out of his blankets on the far side, and began to wriggle away on his belly, like a snake.

Ted still kept his eyes upon him.

Once Woofer stopped and looked back to see if his escape from camp had been observed, or if any one was stirring.

Ted had not moved, and apparently was as sound asleep as ever.

Reassured that no one had seen him leave his blankets, Woofer proceeded until he was without the radius of the camp fire's glow, when he rose to an upright position.

But Ted could still follow him by the starlight.

Evidently believing himself safe, Woofer did not again look around, but walked slowly and silently toward the tents, which were plainly to be seen about fifty feet distant from the fire.

The tent in which the Indian girl was sleeping was farther from the fire than that occupied by Mrs. Graham and her two charges.

Ted had slipped from his blankets at the moment when Woofer rose to his feet, and was creeping along, close to the ground paralleling Woofer's progress, but about twenty feet to the left.

Woofer arrived at the Indian girl's shelter and stopped, and seemed to be listening.

This gave Ted time to creep nearer.

He saw the cow-puncher lift the flap of the tent and look within, still listening carefully for anything that would tell him that Singing Bird was awake.

Ted was not more than ten feet away when Woofer disappeared.

He had entered the tent.

Suddenly from within it there came a muffled cry, then the tent began to pitch and toss. Evidently a savage struggle was going on within.

But it was all so silent that had Ted not been within striking distance of it, he would not have heard anything of it.

Suddenly the tent flew apart, and Woofer appeared, carrying in his arms the insensible form of the Indian girl.

Woofer was a very powerful man, and he ran swiftly from the tent bearing the girl in his arms as if she were a child.

Ted dashed after him. It did not occur to him to raise an alarm.

But as swiftly as he ran, Woofer had the better of him, for a few strides took him out of Ted's sight.

Ted stopped and listened, blaming himself for not closing with Woofer sooner.

Not a sound of Woofer's retreat came to his ears.

Suddenly he heard a nicker at his elbow almost, and looked around. It was Sultan, who had smelled him, and had come to him, and was now rubbing his velvety nose against Ted's sleeve.

In an inspiration Ted leaped upon his back, and caught the headstall, which he always left on Sultan when he turned him loose in the night so that he could get him in a hurry should there be a night alarm of any sort.

An idea came to him as soon as he felt Sultan under him.

Woofer undoubtedly had thought to have a horse saddled and ready waiting for him somewhere near the camp. If he could only get Sultan to call to it and get an answer, he would soon find him.

He had no sooner conceived the thought when Sultan whinneyed like a trumpet call.

From a distance came an answering cry. It was the voice of Magpie, and Ted knew it well. Stella's little black-and-white mare and Sultan were the greatest friends, and when she heard him call, she replied.

Woofer was about to steal the most valuable and swiftest of the animals, except Sultan. That was another reason why Ted was now so keen on the chase. He turned Sultan's head in the direction of Magpie's call, and the little stallion galloped away like the wind.

Ted had no bridle, but that was not necessary, for he and Sultan understood one another so well that a slight pressure of the rider's knees was all the guidance the horse needed.

Again came Magpie's shrill call, and this time Sultan nickered and fairly flew. Somewhere ahead, in the darkness, Ted heard for the first time the hoofbeats of the pony, and knew that Woofer had reached it and was away.

"Follow her; catch her, Sultan," called Ted, and Sultan seemed to understand, and let himself out to his full stride, although he missed the firm, guiding hand on the bridle.

Magpie was put to her utmost, but she was heavily handicapped by carrying double for a race against Sultan, who was not even burdened by the heavy saddle he usually bore.

So it was that Sultan steadily gained on the little mare, who was not disposed to do her utmost even under whip and spur, which Woofer did not spare.

They were now racing in the dark along the ridge of a deep coulee, the wall on the right of which went down steeply to a depth of thirty or more feet.

Ted could not see the way, but he knew that they were riding a perilous path, and that a slip of the foot or a rolling rock might cost them their lives.

But he knew Sultan's feet were sure, and that unless an accident which could not be avoided took place, they were safe.

He had so gained on Woofer that he could now see him dimly outlined against the sky in advance of him.

If it were only level ground on which he could urge Sultan, it would not be a matter of more than a few minutes before he would be up with him.

But evidently Woofer saw him, also, for there was the flash of a revolver, and a ball sang past Ted's head.

He dared not fire in return for fear of hitting Singing Bird.

But the race must end soon, for Ted was steadily gaining.

At length they swept down from the ridge and into the coulee, along the level bottom of which they galloped, Sultan always edging up, closer and closer to Magpie, who evidently was slowing down.

Now Ted spoke to Sultan and urged him for the first time, and the gallant little beast spurted forward, and in an instant's time was abreast of the other horse.

Ted's eyes were almost put out by a blinding flash, and there was a deafening roar.

Woofer had placed his forty-five close to his head, leaning far out of his saddle, and fired.

By same interposition of Providence, however, the ball went past his head, singeing his hair, and he bent forward and struck Woofer on the head with the butt of his own weapon.

Woofer seemed to shrink in the saddle, like a wet rag, and the Indian girl was slipping from his arms to the ground when Ted seized her and transferred her to his own saddle.

At the same moment the insensible form of Woofer slipped to the ground.

Feeling herself free of her burden, Magpie came to a stop, and trotted back to where Ted was waiting for her, and rubbed noses with Sultan.

The Indian girl had been rendered unconscious by a blow on the head in the tent, and was just recovering as Ted rescued her from a fall to the ground.

Presently she opened her eyes, and, not knowing what had taken place within the last few minutes, she tried to struggle out of Ted's arms, at the same time uttering shrill screams, and trying to use her finger nails on his face. She was fighting like a wild cat, and it was all Ted could do to prevent her from injuring him, while he was trying to get her quiet enough to realize the change in her fortunes.

Finally she recognized his voice and ceased to struggle, but sat up and looked at him in amazement.

"It is I, Singing Bird," said he. "I followed you and took you away from Woofer. You are safe."

Then she saw it was so, and remained quiet.

He let her slip to the ground, and then assisted her to mount Magpie, and thus they rode slowly back to camp.

Before going Ted got down from Sultan's back and found Woofer, who was lying where he fell. He was not in a serious condition, but Ted knew that he would suffer from a severe headache when he awoke. Then he would have to take care of himself, alone on the vast prairie without a horse. But it was his own lookout, and perhaps it would teach him a much-needed lesson.

When they reached camp the night guard was changing, and, seeing Ted and the Indian girl come riding in together, the boys aroused the whole camp with their eager questions.

Ted told them briefly all that had happened during the attempted abduction of Singing Bird, but the time was not ripe to divulge the burden of the Indian girl's story of the gold in the mother lode.