were like human assurances that there was still a fighting chance.
The steady loss of blood was telling rapidly now. He clutched the pommel, set his teeth, and felt oblivion settle slowly and surely upon him. As his senses left him he noted the black outlines of the next high range of hills, a full ten miles away.
He only knew the pace of Satan never slackened. There seemed no effort in it. He was like one of those fabled horses, the offspring of the wind, and like the wind, tireless, eternal of motion.
A longer oblivion fell upon Dan. As he roused from it he found himself slipping in the saddle. He struggled desperately to grasp the saddlehorn and managed to draw himself up again; but the warning was sufficient to make him hunt about for some means of making himself more secure in the saddle. It was a difficult task to do anything with only one hand, but he managed to tie his left arm to the bucking-strap. If the end came, at least he was sure to die in the saddle. Vaguely he was aware as he looked around that the black hills were no longer in the distance. He was among them.
On went Satan. His breath was coming more and more laboured. It seemed to Dan's dim consciousness that some of the spring was gone from that glorious stride which swept on and on with the slightest undulation, like a swallow skimming before the wind; but so long as strength remained he knew that Satan would never falter in his pace. As the delirium swept once more shadow-like on his brain, he allowed himself to fall forward, and wound his fingers as closely as possible in the thick mane. His left arm jerked horribly against the bonds. Black night swallowed him once more.
Only his invincible heart kept Satan going throughout that last stretch. His ears lay flat on his neck, lifting only when the master muttered and raved in his fever. Foam flew back against his throat and breast. His breath came shorter, harder, with a rasp; but the gibbering voice of his rider urged him on, faster, and faster. They topped a small hill, and a little to the left and a mile away, rose a group of cottonwoods, and Dan, recovering consciousness, knew the house of Buck. He also knew that his last moment of consciousness was come. Surges of sleepy weakness swept over his brain. He could never guide Satan to the house.
"Bart!" he called feebly.
The wolf whining, dropped back beside him. Dan pointed his right arm straight ahead. Black Bart leaped high into the air and his shrill yelp told that he had seen the cottonwoods and the house.
Dan summoned the last of his power and threw the reins over the head of Satan.
"Take us in, Bart," he said, and twisting his fingers into Satan's mane fell across the saddlehorn.
Satan, understanding the throwing of the reins as an order to halt, came to a sharp stop, and the body of the senseless rider sagged to one side. Black Bart caught the reins. They were bitter and salt with blood of the master.
He tugged hard. Satan whinnied his doubt, and the growl of Black Bart answered, half a threat. In a moment more they were picking their way through the brush towards the house of Buck Daniels.
Satan was far gone with exhaustion. His head drooped; his legs sprawled with every step; his eyes were glazed. Yet he staggered on with the great black wolf pulling at the reins. There was the salt taste of blood in the mouth of Black Bart; so he stalked on, saliva dripping from his mouth, and his eyes glazed with the lust to kill. His furious snarling was the threat which urged on the stallion.
26. BLACK BART TURNS NURSE
It was old Mrs. Daniels who woke first at the sound of scratching and growling. She roused her husband and son, and all three went to the door, Buck in the lead with his six-gun in his hand. At sight of the wolf he started back and raised the gun, but Black Bart fawned about his feet.
"Don't shoot—it's a dog, an' there's his master!" cried Sam. "By the Lord, they's a dead man tied on that there hoss!"
Dan lay on Satan, half fallen from the saddle, with his head hanging far down, only sustained by the strength of the rein. The stallion, wholly spent, stood with his legs braced, his head low, and his breath coming in great gasps. The family ran to the rescue. Sam cut the rein and Buck lowered the limp body in his arms.
"Buck, is he dead?" whispered Mrs. Daniels.
"I don't feel no heart beat," said Buck. "Help me fetch him into the house, Dad!"
"Look out for the hoss!" cried Sam.
Buck started back with his burden just in time, for Satan, surrendering to his exhaustion, pitched to the ground, and lay with sprawling legs like a spent dog rather than a horse.
"Let the hoss be," said Buck. "Help me with the man. He's hurt bad."
Mrs. Daniels ran ahead and lighted a lamp. They laid the body carefully upon a bed. It made a ghastly sight, the bloodless face with the black hair fallen wildly across the forehead, the mouth loosely open, and the lips black with dust.
"Dad!" said Buck. "I think I've seen this feller. God knows if he's livin' or dead."
He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear over Dan's heart.
"I can't feel no motion. Ma, get that hand mirror—"
She had it already and now held it close to the lips of the wounded man. When she drew it away their three heads drew close together.
"They's a mist on it! He's livin'!" cried Buck.
"It ain't nothing," said Sam. "The glass ain't quite clear, that's all."
Mrs. Daniels removed the last doubt by running her finger across the surface of the glass. It left an unmistakable mark.
They wasted no moment then. They brought hot and cold water, washed out his wound, cleansed away the blood; and while Mrs. Daniels and her husband fixed the bandage, Buck pounded and rubbed the limp body to restore the circulation. In a few minutes his efforts were rewarded by a great sigh from Dan.
He shouted in triumph, and then: "By God, it's Whistlin' Dan Barry."
"It is!" said Sam. "Buck, they's been devils workin' tonight. It sure took more'n one man to nail him this way."
They fell to work frantically. There was a perceptible pulse, the breathing was faint but steady, and a touch of colour came in the face.
"His arm will be all right in a few days," said Mrs. Daniels, "but he may fall into a fever. He's turnin' his head from side to side and talkin'. What's he sayin', Buck?"
"He's sayin': 'Faster, Satan.'"
"That's the hoss," interpreted Sam.
"'Hold us straight, Bart!' That's what he's sayin' now."
"That's the wolf."
"'An' it's all for Delilah!' Who's Delilah, Dad?"
"Maybe it's some feller Dan knows."
"Some feller?" repeated Mrs. Daniels with scorn. "It's some worthless girl who got Whistlin' Dan into this trouble."
Dan's eyes opened but there was no understanding in them.
"Haines,
