t."

He turned and gave orders in a low voice to those near him. In a few
minutes the horses, blankets, food, arms, etcetera, of the three friends
were collected, and themselves unbound.

"Now," said the robber chief, "I mean to spend the night here. You may
bid us good-night. The world lies before you--go!"

"B-b-but, sor," said Flinders, with a perplexed and pitiful air. "Ye
niver axed _me_ if I'd j-j-jine ye."

"Because I don't want you," said Stalker.

"Ah! thin, it's little ye know th-the j-j-jewel ye're th-throwin' away."

"What can you do?" asked the robber, while a slight smile played on his
disfigured face.

"What c-can I _not_ do? ye should ax. W-w-why, I can c-c-c-cook, an'
f-f-fight, an' d-dance, an' t-t-tell stories, an' s-s-sing an'--"

"There, that'll do. I accept you," said Stalker, turning away, while
his men burst into a laugh, and felt that Flinders would be a decided
acquisition to the party.

"Are we to go without provisions or weapons?" asked Fred Westly, before
leaving.

"You may have both," answered Stalker, "by joining us. If you go your
own way--you go as you are. Please yourselves."

"You may almost as well kill us as turn us adrift here in the
wilderness, without food or the means of procuring it," remonstrated
Fred. "Is it not so, Tom?"

Tom did not condescend to reply. He had evidently screwed his spirit
up--or down--to the Turkish condition of apathy and contempt.

"You're young, both of you, and strong," answered the robber. "The
woods are full of game, berries, roots, and fish. If you know anything
of woodcraft you can't starve."

"An' sh-sh-sure Tomlin's Diggin's isn't far--far off--straight
f-f-fornint you," said Flinders, going close up to his friends, and
whispering, "Kape round by Bevan's Gully. You'll be--"

"Come, none of your whisperin' together!" shouted Stalker. "You're one
of _us_ now, Flinders, so say goodbye to your old chums an' fall to the
rear."

"Yis, sor," replied the biddable Flinders, grasping each of his comrades
by the hand and wringing it as he said, "G-g-good-bye, f-f-foolish
b-boys, (Bevan's Gully--_sharp_!) f-farewell f-for i-i-iver!" and,
covering his face with his hands, burst into crocodile's tears while he
fell to the rear. He separated two of his fingers, however, in passing
a group of his new comrades, in order to bestow on them a wink which
produced a burst of subdued laughter.

Surprised, annoyed, and puzzled, Tom Bri