“Eight Indians!” he whispered to himself, “and there are twenty-two.” He looked to his revolver--“five more; still there are nine!” He felt for his knife--“could he last till nine were down, if--if he held her image in his mind?” Somehow he felt that even death could not conquer if her life and honor were at stake. Into the hardened frame of the college athlete he felt the steel of “I _must_ win” creeping. He watched the oncoming yelling horde and measured with trained eye their proportional gain. He glanced at the fair one, who was riding so nobly, and then he saw red. His nerves became like piano wires and his muscles like bands of steel. Presently he urged his horse forward until nearly neck and neck with that of his bride. He reached over and touched her soft, white hand and looked into her eyes. “Ride, Dottie! For Heaven’s sake ride, and let nothing stir you from the saddle! Don’t spare the horse! Don’t be alarmed if they begin to shoot, and don’t look back, whatever you do! Remember, Dot; don’t look back! I am going to stop some of their ponies.” Again he dropped back and watched their pursuers. Now the savages were trying their rifles, but the distance was yet too great. He allowed Dot to gain rapidly on him, and then suddenly pulling his horse to a dead stand, he wheeled and threw his carbine to his shoulder. As the first cartridge exploded a pony leaped sidewise and fell headlong. Its rider rolled over and over, trampled upon by those bounding after. Again the carbine spoke and a red man threw up his arms and plunged from the back of his pony. The lieutenant now put spurs to his steed and raced madly after the brave little woman in advance. “Six more and then--then they’ll have to come nearer for their medicine,” murmured the lieutenant, as he lovingly patted his carbine. Bullets now sprinkled plentifully about them, and without pausing in his headlong flight, Avery responded, now and then, by dropping a red man from the saddle. How long could his wife’s horse hold out at this killing pace? That was uppermost in his mind. His own noble animal was fast becoming winded. He knew that only half the distance to the fort was covered. If he only could hold the fiends in check until she was beyond their reach, it was all he would ask. He wondered if the clatter of the rifles behind and rain of bullets had sent terror to her heart. She held the same poise and she had not once looked back. If he could only offer her a few words of comfort. And then came the final catastrophe! Even as he gazed lovingly at the trim little figure in the saddle her horse plunged into a prairie dog’s hole and fell with a broken leg. The fair rider struck the ground and lay as if dead. Lieutenant Avery threw himself from the saddle and his horse dashed on. His wife’s animal was thrashing about pitifully and threatening momentarily to flounder upon that beloved form.