However, Abner Whitten was not one to count the costs when aiding a friend and he drew himself up against the trunk and became motionless. Almost before he could sense it Big Nick passed him, seeming to move on wings, so noiseless were his moccasined feet. With equal stealth Abner revolved around the tree, keeping the trunk between him and his pursuer. It would not do to give a tell-tale sign of his presence just yet; again, he was in an agony of fear that the half-breed would detect the camp if allowed to advance much farther.
“Wal, if it’s got to be done, here gees.” With this desperate exclamation he quickly darted along his avenue of retreat some distance before allowing a dry branch to crackle under his foot.
As if worked by mechanism the half-breed wheeled and raised his rifle. There was nothing to be seen. Vanishing behind a tree trunk he crept tiger like towards the unexplained sound. As he did so his bead-like eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of a human form flashing from view. Uttering a guttural note of triumph he cocked his rifle and sped towards the point where his proposed victim had disappeared. His next note was one of rage, for as he believed he had the veteran cruiser at his
