“Oh, you nasty, miserable, thievin’ woman-stealer, man-assassinator. I’ll cook your breakfast for you, but Fall-leaf shall eat it; _he’ll_ dirty his hands with _you_!” “I defy you and all your crew,” growled the rebel. “If one of you dares to show your head, you are a dead man!” “Blast yer picter, here’s a head—shoot it!” cried Nettleton, sticking his head out in a manner to dare Walker’s fire. The scoundrel was prepared, and discharged his gun in an instant. Its report had not ceased its echo ere Fall-leaf, with a bound like a panther, dropped before the entrance of the hole. Walker stood there with knife in hand, to foil any such attempt to storm his castle. A quick blow with his foot sent the Indian headlong over the ledge. “Try that on me,” roared Nettleton, who, uninjured by the ball from Walker’s musket, was at the Indian’s heels. No sooner said than done, and Nettleton received an unexpected blow in the bowels from the rebel’s heavy boot which sent him almost instantly over the ledge after Fall-leaf. That was the propitious moment for escape. Without a word to his captive, he passed out upon the ledge, and had nearly reached its terminus when Lieutenant Wells, followed by his men, confronted the desperate man. Drawing his revolver, Wells cried: “Surrender or you are a dead man!” “I never will surrender to you,” was the fierce reply, as the now cornered desperado began slowly to retire, backward, to regain his stronghold. He had retreated fully half-way to the entrance, when his heel caught in the rough floor of the ledge, and his balance was lost. For a moment he sought to regain his foothold, but, finding it gone, he gave a shout and leaped over the precipice. The soldiers looked over the ledge and saw his form disappear in the trees beneath. Wells did not wait, but rushed to the cavern mouth. “Miss Mamie.” A form darkened the passage, and within stood Miss Hayward, smiling and blushing as if just caught at her toilet. With a cry of joy Wells entered and clasped her to his bosom. “Safe and uninjured! Thank God—thank God!” answered the maiden. “Safe and restored; and, thank God, your brother, too, is recovered, and is now in our hands, doing well!” “Then I am happy, indeed!” she could only reply, while tears of joy checked further utterance. Wells had entirely forgotten Walker, in his moment of sweet communion with his restored friend. But, a shout which came up from the depths below recalled him to duty. It was a wild Indian war-whoop; then a succession of ejaculations which the men could plainly distinguish. “Go in, Ingen!” “Walk along, Walker, you darn skunk you!” “There, that’s a good un, Ingen!” “Now another in the corn-crib!” “There he goes!” “Hooray for the Ingen!”