"Big Foot,—" he began, when the Indian let out a low hiss of warning.
"Soldier hear Raf," said the Indian, in a whisper. "Me come to find you,—tell fadder and Good Dan would do dat."
"Father and Dan!" returned the boy. "Then they are together?"
"Yes, both in big army outside of dis place. Big Foot say he find Raf. Must go now. Maybe save Raf soon. You watch!"
And then the Indian disappeared as quickly as he had come. By some means known only to himself, he had found out where Ralph was located, and had watched for thirty hours on a stretch for a chance to communicate with the lad. He had caught a sentinel off guard, and had mounted to the window by means of a lariat thrown around one of the bars of the opening. As he leaped down, the sentinel turned in time to catch him winding up his lariat.
"What are you doing there?" demanded the Mexican.
"Indian squaw in dare?" asked Big Foot, meekly.
"No, we do not keep squaws here," answered the Mexican. "Begone, or I'll shoot you;" and then, as the Comanche loped off, he resumed his cigarette smoking.
The coming of Big Foot comforted Ralph
