o crowded round him in the centre of the
thicket which formed their encampment, "we've bin caught. Our only
chance lies in a bold rush and then scatter. Are you ready?"

"Ready!" responded nearly every man. Those who might have been
unwilling were silent, for they knew that objection would be useless.
"Come on, then, an' give them a screech when ye burst out!"

Like an avalanche of demons the robber band rushed down the slope and
crashed into their foes, and a yell that might well have been born of
the regions below rang from cliff to cliff, but the Indians were not
daunted. Taken by surprise, however, many of them were overturned in
the rush, when high above the din arose the bass roar of Gashford.

Crossby heard the signal and led his men down to the scene of battle at
a rapid run. But the robbers were too quick for them; most of them were
already scattering far and wide through the wilderness. Only one group
had been checked, and, strange to say, that was the party that happened
to cluster round and rush with their chief.

But the reason was clear enough, for that section of the foe had been
met by Mahoghany Drake, Bevan, Westly, Brixton, Flinders, and the rest,
while Gashford at last met his match, in the person of the gigantic
Stalker. But they did not meet on equal terms, for the robber's wounded
arm was almost useless. Still, with the other arm he fired a shot at
the huge digger, missed, and, flinging the weapon at his head, grappled
with him. There was a low precipice or rocky ledge, about fifteen feet
high, close to them. Over this the two giants went after a brief but
furious struggle, and here, after the short fight was over, they were
found, grasping each other by their throats, and in a state of
insensibility.

Only two other prisoners were taken besides Stalker--one by Bevan, the
other by Flinders. But these were known by Drake to be poor wretches
who had only joined the band a few weeks before, and as they protested
that they had been captured and forced to join, they were set free.

"You see, it's of no manner o' use hangin' the wretched critters,"
observed Drake to Bevan, confidentially, when they were returning to the
Indian village the following morning. "It would do them no good. All
that we wanted was to break up the band and captur' the chief, which
bein' done, it would be a shame to shed blood uselessly."

"But we must hang Stalker," said little Tolly, who had taken part in the