The Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land

"Carlito," cried Jerry, gripping the shoulder of the slim young fellow who stood there. "Old man, I'm--I--darn it all, come on back!"

"It's Carlito, mother," he shouted, dragging the reluctant young figure with him. "Carl stopped 'em!"

The rescuer reached for his sombrero, which had fallen from his head, as Mrs. Crawford held out her hand.

"You are a brave boy, Carlito!" she said gravely, her face pale. "You've saved us all, I guess. Mrs. Windham, this is Carlito, one of the finest boys at the Post."

As their rescuer turned, his face came into the light of the lamps, and Mrs. Windham started, for she saw he was an Indian. Quickly recovering, she thanked him warmly.

"It wasn't much," said Carlito, smiling composedly. "The horses were stopping themselves."

"Not on your life they weren't!" cried Dunk, hotly. "Jump in and go with us to the fort, Carl."

"Can't. Going to town," replied Carl, putting his hands to his mouth and emitting a strange sound. There was an