“He was met, on his return, by three men—part of those who—who burned Colton’s house. They, in the dim light, thought it was me, and they believed that I had betrayed them in that matter. There was a fight, in which the old man shot two, when the other made off. His horse had been hurt, and so was the girl. She was shot in the side. If you followed his trail, you must have lost it in the river. He rode there, and seeing that his horse was nearly dead, he shot him and sent it floating down-stream, to cover his trail. Then he waded up-stream, finally reaching his retreat.” “Where is that?” “In the _baranca_ that cuts through the ten-mile prairie. In the east side is concealed a good-sized cave. He lives there.” “And the gal?” asked Ruel, in answer to a sign from the agitated father. “I don’t know whether she is living or not. Mestayer told me that she was fatally wounded.” “A durned lie—don’t yer b’lieve him, neighbor,” splurted Ruel, as Hawksley sunk to the ground with a bitter groan. “Now, what of Fred Hawksley? An’ who is that gal that he rid a’ter?” “Mestayer’s daughter. He is hidden there, but he is crazy. The old man hit him on the head with a club, and injured his brain.” “Ask him about Ned,” suggested Fenton. “If you mean Ned Campbell, he’s there, too,” quickly replied Mestayer. “Ge-long to thunderation! A hull nestfull—any more?” spluttered Ruel, amazed. “No,” then adding, quickly. “Now I have told you all, you will set me free?” “Not much—sca’cely. How d’ we know but it’s all a pesky lie, jist hatched up as you went along? No, sir; your part o’ the barg’in don’t end ontel a’ter you show us this wonderful hole in the ground, an’ we see how matters railly stan’.” “Come,” said Hawksley, in a strained, unnaturally still voice, “we are losing time here; let us be riding.” “Co-rect. Git yer horses, boys. I’ll ketch one fer this chap. He’s got to show us the hole, or I’ll know the why.” Mestayer was mounted upon one of the spare horses, and tied firmly to the saddle. Ruel rode beside him, while Hawksley led the way at a rapid rate. The ten miles were soon covered, and the party found themselves at the _baranca_. Dismounting, they silently approached the spot indicated by Mestayer. CHAPTER XI. A DOUBLE SURPRISE. For a time Ned Campbell remained silent, deep-buried in thought. The temptation was strong, and he was slowly yielding to it. Lola watched him closely, and as her keen eye, sharpened by love the most intense and passionate, read the quick changes of his handsome countenance, her heart beat high with hope that he was about to consent. The inward conflict sickened her, and she staggered like one drunken, as she rose, muttering, in a husky, unnatural voice: “Think well over it, but decide quickly. There is no time to lose, if you would be saved. I must seek the fresh air—I am choking!”