shed his finger to the
bone. The next instant he had reached his hut and slammed the door
behind him.

The whole thing had happened in the twinkling of an eye. A dozen of the
guerillas lay dead or wounded on the ground. The odds had been reduced
with a vengeance, but they were still heavy. The attackers had played
their trump card--that of the surprise. It had taken a trick, but the
game was not yet over. No one knew this better than the old
frontiersman. They had emptied their revolvers.

"Back to the woods," he shouted, "and reload."

Waiting only to recover his bowie and slash the bonds of the Chinaman,
who lay there more dead than alive, he led the way. Soon they were under
cover, and not till then did Dick throw his arms around Bert and Tom, in
a hug that almost made their bones crack. Then he shook hands with
Melton, with a fervor that made that hardy hero wince.

"I can never tell you," began Dick, and then he choked.

"You don't have to," returned Melton, gruffly, to conceal his own deep
feeling, while Bert and Tom, in the grip of strong emotion, could only
pat Dick's arms, without speaking; "It's nothing that any white man
wouldn't do for another. Besides, we're not yet out of the woods. Those
fellows will get their nerve back in a minute or two, and then look out
for trouble. They've probably guessed by this time how few we are, and
they'll be wild to get back at us. That leader of theirs is a beast all
right, but he's no coward. The way he cut that poison out of his flesh
shows that. Load your guns quick, and each get behind a big tree. Have
your knives ready too, if it comes to close quarters."

"But you're wounded," cried Dick, as he saw a little trickle of blood
from Melton's left shoulder.

"Only a scratch," laughed Melton; "the chief winged me there with his
last shot. That's one I owe him and I always pay my debts. Just twist
your handkerchief about it, and then we'll forget it."

It proved to be, as he said, only a graze, and they returned to their
attitude of strained attention.

In the meantime, the Chinaman had come hobbling out to them, and in his
hollow eyes there was a speechless gratitude that made them know that he
was their slave for life. He was of no value as a reinforcement, and
after having settled him in the shelter of a huge tree, they peered from
behind their cover for some sign of the expected foe.

Five--ten--twenty minutes passed, and nothing happened.