curious thrill the white youth saw the fearful odds against him in
their position. If he remained clutched in the Indian's embrace there
would be only one end. He would die, and Minnetaki would be more than
ever in the power of her captor.

There was only one chance now, and that was to break away, at least
to free himself enough to get hold of his revolver. He was nerving
himself for the strain when, turning his head a trifle sidewise, he
saw Minnetaki. The girl had risen to her feet, and Rod saw that her
hands were bound behind her. She, too, realized the disadvantage of
Rod's position in the contest, and now with a thrilling cry she sprang
to the outlaw's head and stepped with all her weight upon his extended
arm.

"Quick, Rod--quick!" she cried. "Strike! Strike!"

With a terrible yell the powerful savage wrenched his arm free; in a
last superhuman effort he swung his knife upward as Rod's blade sank
to the hilt in his breast, and the blow fell with a sickening thud
under Rod's arm. With a sharp cry the young hunter staggered to his
feet, and the Indian's knife fell from him, red with blood. Making
an effort to control himself he picked up the knife and loosed the
captive girl's arms.

There came over him then a strange dizziness, a weakness in his limbs.
He was conscious that his head was sinking, and he knew, too, that a
pair of arms was about him, and that from what seemed to be a great,
great distance a voice was calling to him, calling his name. And then
he seemed to be sinking into a deep and painless sleep.