Jack believed that enough had been gained in thoroughly frightening the Indian, and the thing desired now was to get rid of him with the least possible delay. He did not think he would intrude again, even if he had companions within call. "We have no food; we can give you nothing; you must go elsewhere." "Then me go;" and, as if the business was concluded, the buck turned about and began walking toward the edge of the grove. Yielding to a whim which he did not fully understand, Jack Dudley followed him with the warning words: "If you stop, or turn about, or make a move to shoot, I will kill you." It is probable that the savage contemplated some movement of the kind, but he must have known the fatal risk involved. Quick as he was, he could not whirl about and bring his gun to a level before the young man would pull the trigger of the Winchester, which was held pointed toward him. He knew that so long as he obeyed orders he would be unharmed, and he would have been a zany had he hesitated to do so. He did not hesitate, but with a deliberate step that was not lacking in a certain dignity he walked slowly between the trees, with his captor only a few paces behind and keeping pace with him. Almost on the edge of the grove Jack Dudley made an interesting discovery. A pony, smaller than the one he had ridden from Fort Steele, stood motionless in the shadow, awaiting the return of his master. He was not tethered or tied, for he was too well-trained to make that necessary. He showed his fine training further by merely pricking his ears and elevating his head upon the approach of his master and companion. A whinny or neigh might have betrayed both. The two were now so far removed from the glow of the camp-fire that they could see each other only dimly. There was no moon in the sky, though the stars were shining brightly. The Indian, from the force of circumstances, was compelled to hold his disadvantageous position, inasmuch as he had to move out from among the trees, while Jack remained within their shadows. Realizing that this was a critical moment, he stood motionless, with his weapon still at a dead level. "My gun is aimed at your heart," he said, "and I am watching every movement you make. Go in peace, and you shall not be harmed, but on your first attempt to injure me you die." The words, perhaps, were unnecessary, for it may be said that the action of the youth was more eloquent. Be that as it may, the redskin showed a commendable promptness in all that he did. He vaulted lightly upon the bare back of his pony, whose bridle consisted of but a single thong, and turned the head of the brute outward. He did not speak, for it was not required. The pony knew what was wanted; and, with his nose pointed out on the prairie, he emerged from among the trees into the open, with the warrior astride.