"Just the two of them?" queried a comrade. "I'm surprised that they found it." "No, seems that there are a lot of Indians in this party, but the scouts seem to make out the foot-prints of two men who had shoes on." "That's the pair, I'll wager," said a third. "That is how they got away from us yesterday, found some friendly Indians to take them away in canoes. No wonder we couldn't find their track." Tom made no comment, but he gave Tim a knowing wink which so distracted that worthy's attention that an accident was only barely avoided. "This is foine ridin'," said Tim, as a branch of a tree nearly took him out of his saddle. "Why the divil don't those two people you're devotin' your young lives to chasin' keep on good roads and not go trappin' it off into these woods?" "If we have to chase them far we'll show you some fine places," said the soldier who had told the story the night before. "Those two led us some pretty chases back on the old roads, and from the looks of this log track we're following, we'll be getting into worse ones before long." "And a foine time we'll be havin' getting back to New York, or even Philadelphia for that matter, after we have been keepin' you company in these wild wanderings ages upon ages," Tim complained. "Don't blame us for it," answered his soldier friend, "it's the officer's doings you know, not ours." "Look out, Tim!" yelled Tom Dare suddenly, as the trooper's horse ahead of the Irish boy shied violently and rose so high on its hind legs that it almost seemed that both horse and rider would topple over backwards. "Faith, and what's the trouble with ye?" queried Tim, indignantly, of the man ahead. "Don't know," replied he, trying to appear calm, but really very much alarmed. "This nag must have seen a ghost." "There it goes," shouted Tom, leaping quickly from his saddle and darting into the underbrush. "Come here, quick, some of you. I haven't any gun or sword, or even a stick." Two or three of the men followed him and hastily stepped aside as a huge rattler turned with waving head and darting fangs in their direction. "Let's have your gun," said Tom, quickly reaching out his hand for the weapon nearest him. The soldier handed it over and retreated to a safer spot, out of reach of the threatening reptile. Tom took careful aim and pulled the trigger. At the same instant he jumped back out of reach, but he was safe where he had stood. The shot, fired so close to the mark, had fairly blown off the head of the dangerous snake, and the soldiers gave a hearty round of applause at this excellent exhibition of marksmanship, for with a swaying, venomous snake before one, it is most difficult to fire true the first time. "Good shot, young fellow," said the recruiting sergeant, heartily. "I'll ask the major if he doesn't think you could be trusted with a rifle, for a man like yourself would be a valuable addition to our ranks."