horses scarcely two minutes had elapsed. The sorrel was faster than the roan and bore a lighter load. Not long after the whoops behind him had died away, O'Sullivan saw Falcon in the Path ahead, riding hard, his chin over his shoulder. At sight of O'Sullivan, he checked the roan's stride slightly until the other was close behind him; then for three miles or so they pushed on at a swinging gallop. At last Falcon reined in. As O'Sullivan ranged abreast of him, the Irishman spoke:
"Captain Falcon," he said, "if you had not pulled me down upon the ground, Francis O'Sullivan would be a'dead man now. Some day, God willing, I'll repay the debt."
Falcon's strong teeth gleamed under his moustache.
"You owe me nothing," he replied gruffly. "If I had not pulled you down, Lance Falcon would be a dead man, too. I saved you to save my own scalp, which was already wriggling on my head, and which still feels none too secure because I know not the ways of this damned heathen-infested wilderness."
"Nor I," said O'Sullivan, "but, by Paul, I can learn."
"It means, I take it," Falcon continued, "that the Cherokee rising has come. They are between us and the town. We cannot win back to the coast. We must . . . "
With an oath, he jerked his horse back upon its haunches.
"God's blood!" he cried. "We are cut off!
