coming directly down the banks of the stream. As his barely moving
horse topped the uneven summit, the lieutenant suddenly drew in his
rein, and uttering an exclamation of surprise, bent forward, staring
intently down in his immediate front. For a single instant he appeared
to doubt the evidence of his own eyes; then he swung hastily from out
the saddle, all weariness forgotten.

"My God!" he cried, sharply, his eyes suspiciously sweeping the bare
slope. "There are two bodies lying here--white people!"

They lay all doubled up in the coarse grass, exactly as they had
fallen, the man resting face downward, the slender figure of the girl
clasped vice-like in his arms, with her tightly closed eyes upturned
toward the glaring sun. Their strange, strained, unnatural posture,
the rigidity of their limbs, the ghastly pallor of the exposed young
face accentuated by dark, dishevelled hair, all alike seemed to
indicate death. Never once questioning but that he was confronting the
closing scene of a grewsome tragedy, the thoroughly aroused lieutenant
dropped upon his knees beside them, his eyes already moist with
sympathy, his anxious fingers feeling for a possible heart-beat. A
moment of hushed, breathless suspense followed, and then he began
flinging terse, eager commands across his shoulder to where his men
were clustered.

"Here! Carson, Perry, Ronk, lay hold quick, and break this fellow's
clasp," he cried, briefly. "The girl retains a spark of life yet, but
the man's arms fairly crush her."

With all the rigidity of actual death those clutching hands held their
tenacious grip, but the aroused soldiers wrenched the interlaced