There was no getting away from the fearful truth. The vigilance of his father and Tim might enable them to stand off the Sioux as long as daylight lasted. Each had an excellent magazine rifle, for it will be remembered that he had exchanged weapons with his young friend, but there was not only a formidable party of bucks surrounding them, shutting off all possibility of their slipping off during the darkness, but other Sioux were in the neighborhood who could be readily summoned to the spot. Darkness is the favorite time with the red men when moving against an enemy, and they would probably make no determined demonstration until the night was well advanced. Then, when they should rush over the bowlders, nothing could save the fugitives. Should this emergency arise, Warren Starr felt that everything was lost, and he was right. He weakly hoped that Jack would recover from his lameness, but all know how vain is such an expectation. The injury rapidly grew worse, so that when the animal dropped his gait to a trot and then to a walk, Warren had not the heart to urge him farther. Slipping from the saddle he examined the hurt. It was near the fetlock of the left hind leg. The skin was abraded; the ankle evidently had been wrenched. It was swollen, and when the youth passed his hand gently over it, the start and shrinking of the creature showed that it was excessively painful to him. "It's no use, Jack," said the lad; "I know you would give your life for me, but you can't travel on three legs, and I'm not going to make you suffer when it can do us no good." Manifestly there was but one course open--that was to abandon the pony and press on as fast as he could on foot. Jack could get along for a day or two, and his master would not forget to look after him on the first opportunity. There was no call to burden himself with the saddle and bridle, but they would prove an incumbrance to the animal if left upon him, and his owner was too considerate to commit the oversight. In riding so fast the young rancher had followed the general course of the ridge, so that on halting he was quite near it. He now turned to his right, calling upon Jack to follow. The action of the pony was pitiful. When he bore a part of his weight on the limb, after the brief halt, it had become so painful as to be almost useless. Nevertheless he hobbled forward until the foot of the slope was reached. Here Warren removed the trappings. His blanket being rolled behind the saddle, he spread it over the back of the horse and secured it in place.