"
cried the bushranger; "then I'll give you a taste of the same sort of
stuff!"

We heard a struggle for a few seconds, and then the earnest tones of the
most liberal ruffian in remonstrance.

"Put up your knife, you fool, and don't let a woman get the better of
you. Don't you see that she's trying to provoke you to kill her."

"And I will do it, too," yelled the brute.

"No you won't, not as long as I've got charge of this squad. I ain't
going to do all the work, and then let you act as you please, by a
d----n sight. Touch that woman, and I'll make a hole in your side big
enough to throw in a Bible. Put up your knife, and let us see if we
can't cross the creek before daylight."

"Well, don't let her insult me again, that's all," the fellow said, in
reply to the threat, although it seemed that he was prepared to obey the
order, much as he disliked it.

"Insult you! you miserable specimen of a fool? why, it would be
impossible to insult you, for your life is but an insult to your Maker!"
cried the shrill-voiced woman, who had been addressed by the name of
Nancy.

"I'd like to hire that woman to do my scolding," whispered Mr. Wright.
"Lord, how she would make the men fly if they didn't come to dinner at
the exact time."

By a flash of lightning we could see three of the bushrangers examining
the banks of the creek, for the purpose of judging whether it could be
forded by the horses or not.

They seemed to decide against its feasibility, for we heard them
grumbling at the idea of stopping there all night, and getting sighted
by "d----d old Wright" in the morning.

Our host listened to the complimentary remarks about himself with great
glee, for it showed that he was a power that was respected by the
robbing fraternity, and that they took good care to visit his range of
land as little us possible.

"Are we to stay here in the wet all night?" grumbled Mr. Brown.

"I don't see how we are to avoid it," Mr. Wright replied.

"Let us cross the creek, and take those fellows in the rear," I
whispered; "in half an hour we can have every one of them prisoners, or
else _hors du combat_."

Mr. Wright didn't like the project, as he thought that it was running
too great a risk. Mr. Brown meditated on the undertaking, while the
ghost was pleased with the idea, and vowed that he could accomplish the
project alone. As for Mike, he was in ecstasies at the plan, only he
couldn't swim, which somewhat damped his ardor.

"As