't be here for
some hours yet, for you've come on at a rate that no party of men could
beat, I see that clear enough--unless they was mounted."

"But a few of the chief men _were_ mounted, Paul."

"Pooh! that's nothing. Chief men won't come on without the or'nary men.
It needs or'nary men, you know, to make chief 'uns. Ha! ha! Come,
now, if you can't hold your tongue, try to speak and eat at the same
time."

Thus encouraged, Fred set to work on some bread and cheese and coffee
with all the _gusto_ of a starving man, and, at broken intervals,
blurted out all he knew and thought about the movements of the robber
band, as well as his own journey and his parting with Brixton.

"'Tis a pity, an' strange, too, that he was so obstinate," observed
Paul.

"But he thought he was right" said Betty; and then she blushed with
vexation at having been led by impulse even to appear to justify her
lover. But Paul took no notice.

"It matters not," said he, "for it happens that you have found us almost
on the wing, Westly. I knew full well that this fellow Buxley--"

"They call him Stalker, if you mean the robber chief" interrupted Fred.

"Pooh! Did you ever hear of a robber chief without half a dozen
aliases?" rejoined Paul. "This Buxley, havin' found out my quarters,
will never rest till he kills me; so as I've no fancy to leave my little
Betty in an unprotected state yet a while, we have packed up our goods
and chattels--they ain't much to speak of--and intend to leave the old
place this very night. Your friend Stalker won't attack till night--I
know the villain well--but your news inclines me to set off a little
sooner than I intended. So, what you have got to do is to lie down an'
rest while Betty and I get the horse an' cart ready. We've got a spare
horse, which you're welcome to. We sent little Tolly Trevor off to
Briant's Gulch to buy a pony for my little lass. He should have been
back by this time if he succeeded in gettin' it."

"But where do you mean to go to?" asked Fred.

"To Simpson's Gully."

"Why, that's where Tom and I were bound for when we fell in with Stalker
and his band! We shall probably meet Tom returning. But the road is
horrible--indeed there is no road at all, and I don't think a cart
could--"

"Oh! I know that" interrupted Paul, "and have no intention of smashing
up my cart in the woods. We shall go round by the plains, lad. It is
somewhat longer, no doubt, but once away, we sha