hrunk
back, staring apprehensively.

"Ease off, Peters. Ease off," muttered Lamont. "He doesn't know what
he's talking about. He's half off his chump with tire and scare."

This was no more than the truth. Ancram was almost used up. Totally
unaccustomed to roughing it or swift emergency, physically in the
poorest possible training, his experiences of the last two days--the
sight of bloodshed, the forced marches afoot over rough ground, perils
real or imaginary dogging every step, had about done for him, and had
brought out all the worst that was in him. Peters growled like a savage
dog baffled of a bone, and relapsed into sullen silence.

At no great distance now they made out a homestead, right above the high
river bank. Still and peaceful it looked in the early morning, too
still it seemed to two out of the three, who with a quickening of the
pulses wondered if they were too late. No sign of life was there about
the place. No smoke rose from the chimney, and the native huts behind
the house had a deserted look. Well, the family might have received
warning, and escaped.

But, as they reached the house, any such hope quickly died. A horrible
object met their gaze--the body of a man, a white man, stripped and
frightfully hacked and gashed. Right in front of the door it lay, the
position telling its own tale. The unfortunate man had been attacked by
his treacherous murderers, as all unsuspecting he had stepped forth,
probably to confer with them.

"That's Tewson," pronounced Peters shortly.

A groan drew their attention to Ancram, who was staring at the horrible
sight with a kind of fell fascination. His gaze was livid, and his
hands were working convulsively. There was a glare almost of mania in
his eyes.

"Buck up, Ancram," said Lamont, not unkindly. "You must pull yourself
together, you know. This is the first, but I'm afraid not the last
sight of the kind we shall see before we are through with this tangle.
Here, have some of this," producing his flask.

Peters and Lamont were looking at each other, and again the same thought
was in both their minds. Here lay the poor remains of Tewson himself,
but his household consisted of his wife, her sister, and three or four
children. What lay behind that door?

It had to be done. As the door was opened, both men instinctively
started back, then, rallying, they entered. In less than a minute they
returned to the open air, almost reeling, and from