There seemed to be less moon that night than on the previous evening, and as the boy lay looking upward, he could see a number of stars twinkling in the sky. He reflected that beyond them was One who could not forget his pitiful condition, who could bring him out of all his troubles, and who was the only Being unto whom he could go in this dark hour. Ned prayed to Him, as he had been taught to pray at his mother's knee, and, recalling the words which he had so often heard from her dear lips, he believed that God could not forsake him, but that all would come out right. He had lain thus perhaps an hour, when he turned upon his side for the greater comfort of position. As he did so, he was reminded of Devil's Pass by a sharp twinge in his side. It was sharp enough to make him gasp with pain; also to put an idea into his head. Having fully made up his mind to attempt to get away from the Apaches at the very first opportunity which he could seize, it struck him that he might help himself by engaging in a piece of deception, justifiable under the circumstances. The bruise which he had received was not severe enough to interfere with his walking, but Lone Wolf might as well believe that it did. If he thought his prisoner was too lame to do much in the way of locomotion, his watchfulness would be certain to become quite lax, all of which would be a great point in favor of the one mainly concerned. "At any rate, I'll try it on," he said, as he shut his eyes. The excessive fatigue of the lad caused him to drop off into a sound slumber--a slumber filled with sweet dreams of home, father and mother and all that was pleasant. But it was interrupted in the rudest possible way. The night was nearly gone, when a terrific uproar aroused him as suddenly as if a cup of cold water had been dashed in his face. Looking around, he saw two warriors, within six feet of him, engaged in a savage dispute. From some source, a number of the Apaches had obtained a supply of fire-water, and several desperate fights had already taken place. A swarthy redskin, daubed with paint and intoxicated to that degree which brought to the surface all the deviltry in his nature, was striving, with knife in hand, to get at the sleeping boy, while another, in about the same condition, was disputing his right to do this, and claiming that it was peculiarly his own province to slay the young prisoner. Both agreed that death should be awarded, and each claimed that justice demanded that he alone should do the righteous deed. This difference of opinion had already produced high words, the warriors pulling and shoving each other, and threatening each instant to go at each other with their knives. Ned could not understand the words spoken, but the actions of the redskins needed no interpretation. The affrighted boy sprang to his feet, and, forgetful of the lameness which he had arranged, ran back several yards to a group of redskins who were squatted upon the ground, smoking.