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"Who?" I cried. "What! You don't mean to say--was that Lieutenant Ferry?"

As the rider wheeled away I blurted out with anxious loudness in the general hubbub, "Isn't his brother with him?"

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"You sa-ay 'Whah is it?'--ow batt'ry"--he champed noisily--"I dunno. Does you? Whah is it?"

The rifle cracked, but its ball sang over us; a shot answered it behind me; the howling man's voice died in a gurgle, and Sergeant Jim ran by me, leaped upon the horse that had stayed beside his fallen rider, and was off hot-footed after the other. "Turn your prisoner over to Kendall, Smith," he cried, "and put out like hell for Clifton!"

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