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“I wonder who did then. But I want to go to the troops. Which way did they go?” But before Bob could answer, Mr. Whitney saw for the first time that Jerry was being held prisoner by the Indian.,

Just what the pleasure was Johnny Blossom could not exactly understand.,

JOHNNY BLOSSOM was entirely at a loss. Here it was the best part of the vacation and not a bit of fun going on. It rained nearly every day—such disgustingly long showers that if they did ever hold up, it was too sopping wet in the grass and everywhere to do anything. Besides the wind blew very hard, but that was rather pleasant, there was so much you could do when there was a good wind—fly kites, for instance.,

Feather-in-the-Wind had become separated from them, but his plan had worked! This was Bob’s first thought, but his exultation was cut short by the most surprising event of this eventful night!

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Big Chief Whitney laughed. “It would have come sooner or later, so don’t worry your head about it. I’ve got to beat this some time and it might as well be now. I’ll find a way. But don’t let this bother you, kid. These are my exclusive troubles. Some day or other, if you stay with the Service, I suppose you’ll be a Chief Engineer and then you’ll have to worry over things like this. No use in borrowing trouble.” And with this he closed the talk.,

Johnny Blossom suddenly found something the matter with his shoestring. His face was very red when he straightened up again, saying, “How provoking shoestrings are!”,

The obscurity of the place prevented Hippolitus from distinguishing the features of the dying man. From the blood which covered him, and from the surrounding circumstances, he appeared to be murdered; and the count had no doubt that the men he beheld were the murderers. The horror of the scene entirely overcame him; he stood rooted to the spot, and saw the assassins rifle the pockets of the dying person, who, in a voice scarcely articulate, but which despair seemed to aid, supplicated for mercy. The ruffians answered him only with execrations, and continued their plunder. His groans and his sufferings served only to aggravate their cruelty. They were proceeding to take from him a miniature picture, which was fastened round his neck, and had been hitherto concealed in his bosom; when by a sudden effort he half raised himself from the ground, and attempted to save it from their hands. The effort availed him nothing; a blow from one of the villains laid the unfortunate man on the floor without motion. The horrid barbarity of the act seized the mind of Hippolitus so entirely, that, forgetful of his own situation, he groaned aloud, and started with an instantaneous design of avenging the deed. The noise he made alarmed the banditti, who looking whence it came, discovered the count through the casement. They instantly quitted their prize, and rushed towards the door of the room. He was now returned to a sense of his danger, and endeavoured to escape to the exterior part of the ruin; but terror bewildered his senses, and he mistook his way. Instead of regaining the arch-way, he perplexed himself with fruitless wanderings, and at length found himself only more deeply involved in the secret recesses of the pile.,

CHAPTER XIV