It was the fear of this that caused Warren to ask his friend to draw up as near to him as he could. It was not likely that both ponies would fall at once, and the survivor might be able to carry the couple to safety. "I tell ye we are gaining," said the Irishman, with far more hope in his manner than Warren thought was warranted. "We must gain a good deal before getting out of the woods," was the reply of the other, who devoted every energy to forcing his animal to his best pace. "Look out! they're going to shoot again," said Tim. Throwing himself forward, Warren hugged his pony closer than ever, his companion doing the same, instead of trying to use his gun. The volley came while the words were in course of utterance, but neither of the youths was touched. The Sioux must have found it equally hard to fire with their animals on a full run. "Why don't the spalpeens save their powder?" was the disgusted question of Tim, but his feelings changed a minute later, when his own pony showed by his actions that he had been hit hard. He uttered a low, moaning cry, and staggered as if about to fall. Warren was the first to notice it. "Tim, Billy is going to drop; ride closer and mount Jack behind me." "Not a bit of it! I'll see you hanged first," was the characteristic reply of the brave fellow, who sturdily refused to heed the urgent appeal of his friend. "Why not?" "Jack can't carry us both." "He can until we reach the ridge." "But we're not going toward it," insisted Tim, too observant to be deceived. "Turn Billy's head that way," said Warren, growing desperate in the imminence of the peril, and swerving his pony to the right; "Jack can carry us both as well as one." Still the Irishman hesitated. It might be as his companion said, but he was unwilling to imperil Warren, and destroy the chances of both, when everything looked so favorable for one. Meanwhile, the stricken Billy was fast giving out. He struggled gamely, but it was evident that he must quickly succumb. At the most, he could go but a short distance farther. The Sioux fired again, but nothing was accomplished. If Jack was hit, he did not show it during the few seconds that his rider held his breath. Still Tim held back in the face of the pleadings of his friend. Two discoveries, however, led him to yield. They were now heading straight for the ridge, which was barely half a mile distant. It must soon be attained, unless something happened to Jack. The foremost Sioux had fallen so perceptibly behind that there was reason to believe the horse could carry both riders to safety, or rather to the refuge which they hoped to find at the base of the ridge. "I'll do the same, being it's yerself that asks it----" "Quick! Billy is falling!" called Warren, far more excited than his companion. The crisis had come. The poor animal could go no farther, and was swaying from side to side like a drunken person, certain to fall with the next minute.