"She shall never ride Black Hawk again," he muttered, "Miss DeWolf can't circumvent me. If she has dared to betray me, she will never tell the story again. I guess my word is as good as hers--I defy Wycoff." Then followed such expletives as the speaker deemed suitable to the occasion: but which were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Wycoff mounted upon Black Hawk and apparently in good humor with himself and all the world. He evidently did not wish to remember the unpleasant scene of the previous day, for he partly halted as he came up to Hank, and said pleasantly, "What luck to-day, Mr. Glutter?" Hank seeing in him a future victim to his wiles, spread his net right warily: "Well, Wycoff," he replied," "I have had the good luck to secure the most desirable corner in the city for my business, and I intend to keep on hand first class liquors, just such as you like best; and I consider you a judge of the article." "How unfortunate that I have given up drinking," said Wycoff with great gravity. The corners of Hank's mouth drew down a little, but he replied in the most persuasive manner, "O well, its never best to drink to excess, but I hope to have the pleasure, Mr. Wycoff, of treating you to many a harmless glass." "I must be going back," said Wycoff, abruptly wheeling round, "I just rode out a little way to get some of the spirit out of the horse before Miss DeWolf takes her evening ride." Hank shook his fist after him, "I'll take the spirit out of the horse, and out of the girl too," he threatened. "Lucky she hasn't told Wycoff, I can tell my own story all the better." Hank had just entered the "pass" when he again caught a view of Black Hawk in the distance; but this time Little Wolf was the rider. He drew his breath hard, and in an instant his hand was upon his dirk. "Now is my time," came from between his closed teeth and he threw himself behind the trunk of a tree, and in the twilight not a shadow of him was visible. On came Little Wolf, sitting her splendid steed right regally. Her proud, fearless little face was slightly shaded by the waving plumes in her velvet cap, and her long black robes floated on the evening breeze. By constant petting from the hour that he became hers, Black Hawk had been won, and the intractable, fiery creature, who had hitherto spurned all control but Wycoff's, readily yielded to Little Wolf's guiding hand. The sagacious creature had exhibited no little pride in bearing off his precious burden under the eye of his old master. His new mistress glorying in her power over him bade him forward and without a suspicion of danger, entered the fatal pass. In a moment they were opposite Hank's hiding place, who concentrating all his energies, made a cat-like spring and caught at Black Hawk's bridle.