The ground seemed favorable for my design. The gully up which I was creeping curved around behind the tree that sheltered Colonel Hetherill, and I believed that with caution I could suddenly throw myself upon him from the rear and overwhelm him. I dropped down on my hands and knees, and, though my progress was slow, I avoided another fall. The colonel gave no sign. I presumed that he was behind the tree, watching for an attack and seeking an opening in his turn. I rose up a little, trying to peep over the wall of the gully toward the tree, and caught a glimpse of a gray head lifted above the same gully wall, but just around the curve. He dropped back like a flash, and from prudential motives I did the same. The curve of the gully at that point was sharp. In fact, it was more of an angle than a curve, and he was only a yard or two from me. As I hugged the wall, I could hear his heavy, tired breathing. I thought once of turning about and going back, but I concluded that it would never do. The colonel had escaped me once, and I would be ashamed to confess to my comrades that he had escaped me twice. I resumed my continuous creep, stealing forward inch by inch until I came to that point in the curve beyond which I could not pass without coming into his sight. Then I gathered myself for a great effort, sprang to my feet, and darted around the curve, ready to spring upon him and surprise him. I encountered another large and living body rushing in my direction, and the encounter was so violent that I fell back on the ice and sleet, half stunned. In a few moments I recovered and sat up. Dr. Ambrose was sitting on a stone and looking at me, his eyes full of reproach. He pointed to a purple contusion on his forehead. "You did that," he said. I felt of a growing lump over my left ear. "You did that," I said. He surveyed me, still with reproach. "I took you for Colonel Hetherill," he said. I put some reproach into my own gaze. "I took you for Colonel Hetherill, too," I said. "I expected to take Colonel Hetherill to the hut," he said, mournfully. "I expected to do the same," I said, sadly. "Since I can't take the colonel to the hut," he said, "I will take you." "Very well, then," I said. "While you are taking me there, I will take you too. Shake hands, doctor. I'm tremendously glad to see you, you old rebel." We shook hands with the greatest good will. Then he went to the tree and recovered the rifle which was leaning behind it, taken by him in his flight. We started back to the hut, and on the way he gave an account of himself. He had fled from Fort Defiance without any clear object in view except to escape the colonel's wrath, which he believed would be but temporary. When the sleet storm came on he had endured it for a while. At last he reached the hut, built a big fire, warmed himself thoroughly, and then went out to look for the colonel, thinking that the fierceness of the weather would have chilled his rage by this time.