eyes closed in spite of his efforts to keep them open. But he invariably straightened up, determined to keep awake at all hazards.
"I'll not rest until I know all at home are safe," he told himself. "I must get along somehow." And he staggered up and continued his course.
He had not gone over a rod when he saw something dark moving ahead. The object looked like a pair of Indians, coming slowly toward him, and his heart leaped into his throat. He raised his gun and pointed it.
But ere he was called on to fire he saw the object more distinctly and uttering something of a cry of joy he lowered his weapon and rushed forward.
"Widgeon!" burst from his lips, and in a moment more he had hold of the mane of one of Uriah Risley's horses—an animal that had escaped from the Indians when the shed was set on fire. "Where did you come from? How lucky I am to find you!"
The horse seemed to recognize Dave, for he gave a low whinny and rubbed his cold nose on the youth's jacket sleeve. A broken halter dangled from his neck, but he possessed neither saddle nor bridle. He was covered with a cold moisture, showing that he had run considerably after having broken away.
Having found the horse Dave's spirits arose a little. He led the animal forward and struck out
