"You she-devil!" yelled a man, as he dashed away after the figure flying away in the darkness. John hesitated a moment whether to follow the two who had run away, or to make straight for the cabin; he chose the latter, and with hasty bounds, he was soon at the door with his eyes fixed upon a figure stretched upon the floor. It was Ellen! A moment, and he was beside her, trying to stanch the pistol shot wound in her gaping neck, and calling softly under his breath for her to open her eyes. He did not hear the heavy steps behind him, but he turned to meet the black, blazing eyes of Louisiana Liz, peeping in the door behind him, her smoking pistol still in her hand, and then he heard the woman howl with wicked laughter: "You sought your flown bird too late, for the huntsman found her heart and the keen arrow of hate found her throat almost as soon. Ha, ha, ha!" John's blood curdled in his veins, and he held the dying girl closer to him as he bent his head over her. Ellie opened her eyes as she felt John's presence, and whispered painfully, "Tell Aunt Clara to forgive me; I am so sorry. I am--so--sorry--" John never knew how he allowed that sweet life to flicker out, for he felt as if he could arise and grapple with Death himself and conquer the grim destroyer of all this beauty and youth. "Well, my long-bearded friend," gasped a hoarse voice behind him; "you seem to have served your sweetheart a pretty ghastly trick." John laid the body of his dead upon the earthen floor of the hut, and with a spring he was upon his adversary. But the soldier, who was too quick for him, dodged the blow, and ran out of the door. John followed, and ran this way and that, but the darkness and the unfamiliarity of the place rendered it impossible for him to find the villain who had thus dared to imply that he himself had been guilty of this awful deed. In a moment, John knew how impossible it would be for him to prove anything. From the few words of so good a friend as Colonel Saxey he knew that it would only provoke hostilities and perhaps plunge the whole Territory into war and rob the leaders of their lives, if he added another crime to the one already committed. His hands twitched and his throat ached as he entered that dreadful hut, for he felt that he would be justified in the eyes of God and man in taking the lives of such vile reprobates as were this soldier Sherwood and his octoroon paramour. Yet his first duty was to take the body of this unhappy girl home for decent burial, and then he might well leave the question of revenge to God and the future.