ted them out to the inspector, and he stopped and examined them
through a pocket spy-glass which he usually carried when he left town.

"Well, are they friends or foes?" asked Fred.

The inspector made no reply until the men were lost to view beneath the
branches of the trees.

"Are you sure," he asked, "that you left your powder and lead at
Ballarat?"

"Quite sure--why do you ask?"

"Because, unfortunately, there are six as great rascals as ever went
unhung on the hill, and they mean mischief, I'll swear."

The inspector put up his glass, and examined his nearly-emptied revolver
with a rueful look.

"If the blasted snakes had not wasted our powder there would be some
show for us," he continued, "because, luckily, the scamps are armed with
pistols only."

"But we have three shots," cried Fred, his blood beginning to dance
through his veins at the prospect of a struggle; "I will guarantee that
every discharge brings down a bird, and as for the remainder, why, we
will meet them single-handed."

"I like to hear you talk in that strain, but the odds are against us. We
have a long hill to ascend, and should have to leave our horses behind,
and that I can't think of. The bushrangers, I suppose, desire the
animals for the purpose of escaping to some other portion of the
country, and even at the risk of running from a fight, we must
disappoint them. No, no; it would be madness attacking six men with
empty revolvers, when they have the choice of ground."

The inspector returned his revolver to his belt, and once more examined
the spot where the robbers had gone into ambush.

"Yes, they are watching our every motion, and I can see one fellow
standing near the trunk of the first tree on our right examining his
pistols attentively. Now he looks towards us, and points with his hand
in the direction of the ravine. It is our only chance." He closed the
glass abruptly and put spurs to his horse, calling upon us to follow him
without a moment's delay. We suspected Mr. Brown's intentions, but did
not consider the danger so imminent as he imagined. We therefore
galloped along at a moderate pace, and allowed the inspector to take the
lead.

"Faster, faster," he shouted, looking over his shoulder to see if we
kept up with him.

"What is your hurry?" cried Fred, with a provoking degree of coolness.

"Because there is need of it," Mr. Brown answered, reining his animal in
for the purpose of allowing us to get alongside of hi