here's a chink!"

Through this chink Simon saw two big ruffians walking ahead of the
rest. Two shots rang out. The two big ruffians fell. The party halted
for the second time, hesitating what to do.

Dolores and Simon profited by this delay to take refuge at the extreme
edge of the river. Three single blocks of marble formed a sort of
sentry-box, with an empty space in front of it.

"Charge!" shouted Forsetta, joining the men. "They're trapped! Mazzani
and I have got them covered. If the Frenchman stirs, we'll shoot him
down!"

To meet the charge, Simon and Dolores were obliged to stand up and
half-expose themselves. Terrified by the Indian's threat, Dolores
threw herself before Simon, making a rampart of her body.

"Halt!" ordered Forsetta, restraining his men's onrush. "And you,
Dolores, you leave your Frenchman! Come! He shall have his life if
you leave him. He can go: it's you I'm after!"

Simon seized the girl with his left arm and drew her back by main
force:

"Not a movement!" he said. "I forbid you to leave me! I'll answer for
your safety. As long as I live those brutes shan't get you."

And, with the girl pressed against the hollow of his shoulder, he
stretched out his right arm.

"Well done, M. Dubosc!" jeered Forsetta. "Seems that we're sweet on
the fair Dolores and that we're sticking to her! Those Frenchmen are
all alike! Chivalrous fellows!"

With a wave of the hand he gathered up the tramps for the final
attack:

"Now then, mates! One more effort and all the notes are yours! Mazzani
and I bag the pretty lady. Is that right, Mazzani?"

All together they came rushing on. All together, at an order from
Forsetta, they hurled, like so many projectiles, the pieces of wood
and iron with which they had protected themselves. Dolores was not
hit, but Simon, struck on the arm, dropped his Browning at the very
moment when he had fired at Mazzani and brought him down. One of the
tramps leapt upon the pistol, which had rolled away, while Forsetta
struggled with Dolores, avoiding the girl's dagger and imprisoning her
in his arms.

"Oh, Simon! I'm done for!" she screamed, trying to hang on to him.

But Simon had the five tramps to deal with. Unarmed, with nothing but
his hands and feet to fight with, he was shot at three times by the
man who had picked up his pistol and was clumsily firing off the last
few cartridges. He staggered for a moment under the weight of the
other brutes and was thrown to the