He returned toward the camp, and something cold passed his face. There was a slight whistling sound directly in his ear, and he sprang to one side, as if he had narrowly missed the fangs of a rattlesnake. He heard almost in the same instant a slight, thudding sound directly in front of him, and he knew instinctively what had made it. He ran forward, and there was an arrow sticking half its length in the ground. The impulse of caution succeeded that of curiosity. Remembering Bill Breakstone’s teachings, he threw himself flat upon the ground, letting his figure blend with the darkness, and lay there, perfectly still. But no other arrow came. Nothing stirred. He could not make out among the shadows anything that resembled a human figure, although his eyes were good and were now trained to the work of a sentinel. Once when he put his ear to the earth he thought he heard the faint beat of retreating hoofs, but the sound was so brief and so far away that he was not sure. Phil felt shivers, more after he lay down than when the arrow passed his cheek. It was the first time that a deadly weapon or missile had passed so close to him, fired perhaps with the intent of slaying him, and no boy could pass through such an experience without quivers and an icy feeling along the spine. But when he lay still awhile and could not detect the presence of any enemy, he rose and examined the arrow again. There was enough light for him to see that the feathered shaft was exactly like that of the arrow they had found in the tree. He pulled the weapon out of the ground and examined it with care. It had a triangular head of iron, with extremely sharp edges, and he shuddered again. If it had struck him, it would have gone through him as Bill Breakstone said the Comanche arrows sometimes went entirely through the body of a buffalo. He took the arrow at once to the camp, and showed it to the men who were on guard there, telling how this feathered messenger--and he could not doubt that it was a messenger--had come. Woodfall and Middleton were awakened, and both looked serious. It could not be any play of fancy on the part of an imaginative boy. Here was the arrow to speak for itself. "It must have been the deed of a daring Comanche," said Middleton with conviction. "Perhaps he did not intend to kill Phil, and I am sure that this arrow, like the first, was intended as a threat." "Then it’s wasted, just as others will be," said Woodfall. "My men do not fear Comanches." "I know that," said Middleton. "It is a strong train, but we must realize, Mr. Woodfall, that the Comanches are numerous and powerful. We must make every preparation, all must stay close by the train, and there must be a strict night watch." He spoke in a tone of authority, but it fitted so well upon him, and seemed so natural that Woodfall did not resent it. On the contrary, he nodded, and then added his emphatic acquiescence in words.