of the boys, wetting them to the
skin.

"Soak 'em!" directed Miller.

The men did not stop pouring till the clothing of the boys was
thoroughly saturated.

"Thar!" said Miller, with a fiendish chuckle, "I reckon you-uns is ready
fer touchin' off, an' ye'll burn like pine knots. Ther way ye'll holler
will make ye heard clean ter ther top o' Black Maounting, an' ther fire
will be seen; but when anybody gits har, you-uns an' this still will be
ashes."

He knelt beside Frank, lighted a match, and applied it to the boy's
whiskey-soaked clothing!

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE MYSTERY OF MURIEL.

Not quite! The flame almost touched Frank's clothing when the boy rolled
over swiftly, thus getting out of the way for the moment.

At the same instant the blast of a bugle was heard at the very front of
the hut, and the door fell with a crash, while men poured in by the
opening.

"Ther revernues!" shouted Wade Miller.

"No, not ther revernues!" rang out a clear voice; "but Muriel!"

The boy chief of the Black Caps was there.

"An' Muriel is not erlone!" thundered another voice. "Rufe Kenyon is
har!"

Out in front of Muriel leaped the escaped criminal, confronting the man
who had betrayed him.

Miller staggered, his face turning pale as if struck a heavy blow, and a
bitter exclamation of fury came through his clinched teeth.

"Rufe!" he grated. "Then it's fight fer life!"

"Yes, it's fight!" roared Kate Kenyon's brother, as a long-bladed knife
glittered in his hand, and he thrust back the sleeve of his shirt till
his arm was bared above the elbow. "I swore ter finish yer, Miller; but
I'll give ye a squar' show! Draw yer knife, an' may ther best man win!"

With the snarl that might have come from the throat of a savage beast,
Miller snatched out a revolver instead of drawing a knife.

"I'll not fight ye!" he screamed; "but I'll shoot ye plumb through ther
heart!"

He fired, and Rufe Kenyon ducked at the same time.

There was a scream of pain, and Muriel flung up both hands, dropping
into the arms of the man behind.

Rufe Kenyon had dodged the bullet, but the boy chief of the Black Caps
had suffered in his stead.

Miller seemed dazed by the result of his shot. The revolver fell from
his hand, and he staggered forward, groaning:

"Kate!--I've killed her!"

Rufe Kenyon forgot his foe, dropping on one knee beside the prostrate
figure of Muriel, and swiftly removing the mask.

The face of Kate Kenyon was re