ke was gone the gang still beheld the terrible woman beating away at
their unhappy comrade, too absorbed in a congenial occupation to care a
solitary button for the fire of the outlaws. This was too much for
Jacker. The brothers were always ready to fight each other's battles, let
the odds be what they might, and the elder rushed to the rescue. The
onslaught did not seem to make the least difference, however; the woman
simply dropped Ted and grasped his brother. Jacker Mack was a strong boy
and a fierce one, but strength and tricks availed him nothing against
those powerful arms; in ten seconds he was in Ted's place, and the
massive hand was dealing with him, heavily and with startling rapidity.

'Charge!' shrieked Red Hand.

But the gang was demoralized. Peterson and Doon moved back from the
danger, and only one member obeyed the order--Peterson's formidable goat,
Hector. Goodness knows what inspired the animal; possibly a grateful
instinct, probably the sight of means to do an ill deed. Anyhow, he
charged. He rushed the woman from a commanding position, with force and
judgment, and a second later Jacker, woman, and goat were rolling and
struggling in the dust. Red Hand and the faithful Ted dragged Jacker from
the hands of the enemy, and the gang fled to a safe distance, and watched
the shadowy form of the woman as she gathered herself up and shook the
dust out of her dress. Then for two minutes she stood and addressed them
through the darkness in strident tones and language that would have
shocked an old drover or a railway ganger.

'Bushrangin' ain't up to much,' whimpered Ted, rubbing himself with both
hands.

'It's rot!' said Jacker fiercely.

Peterson and Doon muttered words of approval, and Dick felt that four
pairs of reproachful eyes were turned upon him. Gable was still hopping
about ecstatically murmuring 'Crickey! Oh, crickey!' as he had been doing
all through the encounter.

'How'd I know?' said Dick in self-defence. 'You fellers oughter had
better sense'n to let her get hold o' you.'

'You started it!' groaned Ted.

'Pretty lot o' bushrangers you are, anyway,' Dick sneered, 'howlin'
'cause a woman gave you a bit of a doin'.'

'How' d you like it?' asked Jacker sullenly.

Dick disdained to reply; indeed his attention was occupied with more
important things. Out of the night came the sound of galloping hoofs and
calling voices. The boys listened anxiously for a minute or so, and then
realised the