situated as to command a view across the muddy stream. The sun had not
risen above the horizon, but the gray dawn gave misty revealment of the
sluggish-flowing river, the brown slope opposite, and the darker shadow
of bluffs beyond. The popping of those distant guns had ceased by the
time they attained their new position, and they could distinguish the
Indians--mere black dots against the brown slope--advancing in a
semicircle toward the silent stage. Evidently they were puzzled,
fearful of some trickery, for occasionally a gun would crack viciously,
the brown smoke plainly visible, the advancing savages halting to
observe the effect. Then a bright colored blanket was waved aloft as
though in signal, and the entire body, converging toward the deserted
coach, leaped forward with a wild yell, which echoed faintly across the
water.

The girl hid her face in the sand, with a half-stifled sob, but the
Sergeant watched grimly, his eyes barely above the ridge. What would
they do when they discovered the dead bodies?--when they realized that
others had eluded their vigilance during the night? Would they be able
to trace them, or would his ruse succeed? Of course their savage
cunning would track them as far as the river--there was no way in which
he could have successfully concealed the trail made down the gully, or
the marks left on the sandy bank. But would they imagine he had dared
to cross the broad stream, burdened with the girl, confronting almost
certain death in the quicksand? Would they not believe rather that he
had waded along the water's edge headed west, hoping thus to escape to
the bluffs, where some hiding-place might be found? Even if they
suspected a crossing, would any warriors among them be reckless enough
to follow? Would they not be more apt to believe that both fugitives
had been sucked down into the treacherous stream? Almost breathless
Hamlin watched, these thoughts coursing through his mind, realizing the