"Angels NOTHING!" Cried Buddy in deep disgust and scuttled for the cabin.
The cabin, he knew as he ran, was just then the worst place in the world for a boy who wanted very much to go on living.

Through its gaping doorway he saw a few odds and ends of food lying on the table, but he dared not stop long enough to get them.

The Indians were thundering down to the corral, and as he rounded the cabin's corner he glanced back and saw the foremost riders whipping their horses on the trail of the fleeing white men.

But some, he knew, would stop.

Even the prospect of fresh scalps could not hold the greedy ones from prowling around a white man's dwelling place.