at the same moment the sounds of the others crashing through the bush
behind them came to Tap's ears.

"Don't leave the mare--think of the pain she's in," the man on the
ground cried out, as he strove to rise, and fell back, writhing in
agony.

The sound of Tap's horse galloping away came to him with the sounds of
others approaching. The light from the little fire Tap had made was just
enough to show where the five pursuers reined up in time to miss the
sudden drop in the ground. The man's eyes gleamed as he saw them, and he
tried to pull out a revolver.

"Morton and I'll ride on; fix him up and follow," Peters shouted, as
Murray, having dismounted, rushed across and seized the man's hand.

While Murray took the revolver from the man's pocket, the young selector
threw enough twigs on the fire to make it blaze up brightly. Tony,
noticing the state of the impaled mare, cried out--

"Poor brute! Here, lend me that pistol, Murray, till I put it out of
misery."

The gleaming eyes of the injured man followed him as he went over to the
mare and ended its agony. Murray stooped and tried to move him into a
more easy position, and only then did the gleaming eyes leave Tony's
face.

"Damn you!" he said, as he looked up for a moment at Murray.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A TANGLED SKEIN.

The man with the broken thigh lay still on the rough-made stretcher the
men had put up for him before starting, and Tony, sitting on the other
side of the fire, smoked in silence, not moving arm or leg lest by so
doing he should attract the attention of the sufferer and so disturb
him. For the same reason he did not replenish the fire, now burning down
to a glowing mass of embers, which threw out a dull red glare and fell
upon the form of the man where he lay, wrapped in a blanket, and played
weird tricks of shade with the grizzly beard and the unkempt locks that
strayed across the forehead.

Viewed either by firelight or sunlight, it was not a face to hold the
glance, nor to call for a second look, unless the mind were morbid and
animated by a love for the grotesque and devilish. Not even the
unsteady, deceptive glare of the ember light, throwing streaks and
patches of shade, ever changing and ever moving, across the ragged
surface of the beard, could hide the square massiveness of the jaws and
the curve of the hard yet sensuous lips. There was strength in the nose,
strength and cruelty, and the straight black band that formed the he