Uttering hoarse guttural cries, with the quick crouching run of the Indian on the trail of his foe, he chased Kalman through the bluffs.

There was something so fiendishly terrifying in the glimpses that Kalman caught of his face now and then that the boy was seized with an overpowering dread, and ceasing to tantalize his pursuing enemy, he left the bluffs and fled toward the house, with Mackenzie hard upon his track.

Through the shed the boy flew and into the outer room, banging the door hard after him.

But there was no lock upon the door, and he could not hope to hold it shut against his pursuer.

He glanced wildly into the inner room.
French was nowhere to be seen.