them up and set 'em adrift. Do you mind getting
out into the water? It's ankle deep, that's all. I'll keep them covered
while you take their guns."

"Nice way to treat a friend," growled one of the men.

"A friend? By George, it's my Newport acquaintance. Well, this is a
pleasure! I suppose you know that I'll shoot if you resist. Better take
it quietly."

"Oh, you'll shoot, all right," said the other. "I told them damn fools
that a Yankee'd get the better of 'em, even if they ran a steam roller
over him two or three times. Say, you're a pippin! I'd like to take off
my hat to you."

"Don't bother. I acknowledge the tribute."

Loraine Tullis was in the water by this time. With nervous haste she
obeyed King's instructions; the big revolvers were passed back to him.

"I've changed my mind," said Truxton' suddenly. "We'll keep the boat.
Get in, Miss Tullis. There! Now, push off, Newport."

"What the devil--" began Newport, but King silenced him. The boat slowly
drifted out into the current.

"Now, row!" he commanded. With his free hand he reached back and dragged
the limp Brutus into the boat. "'Gad, I believe he's dead," he muttered.

For five minutes the surly oarsmen pulled away, headed in the direction
from which they came.

"Can you swim?" demanded King.

"Not a stroke," gasped Newport. "Good Lord, pal, you're not going to
dump us overboard. It's ten feet deep along here."

"Pull on your left, hard. That's right. I'm going to land you on the
opposite shore-and then bid you a cheerful good-night."

Two minutes later they ran up under the western bank of the stream,
which at this point was fully three hundred yards wide. The nearest
bridge was a mile and a half away and habitations were scarce, as he
well knew. Under cover of the deadly revolver, the two men dropped into
the water, which was above their waists; the limp form of Peter Brutus
was pulled out and transferred to the shoulders of his companions.

"Good-night," called out Truxton King cheerily. He had grasped the
oars; the little boat leaped off into the night, leaving the cursing
desperadoes waist-deep in the chilly waters.

"See you later," sang out Newport, with sudden humour.

"We'll go south," said Truxton King to the girl who sat in the stern,
clutching the sides of the boat with tense fingers. "I don't know just
where we'll land, but it won't be up in Devil's Patch, you may rest
assured of that. Pardon me if I do not indulge in small ta