still held was lifeless, and the spirit of the
outlaw had entered within the veil of that mysterious Hereafter.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

CHASE, CAPTURE, AND END OF JAKE THE FLINT.

It was growing dark when Brooke and the scout reached the cave that
evening and found that Buck Tom was dead; but they had barely time to
realise the fact when their attention was diverted by the sudden arrival
of a large band of horsemen--cowboys and others--the leader of whom
seemed to be the cow-boy Crux.

Hunky Ben and his friends had, of course, made rapid preparations to
receive them as foes, if need were; but on recognising who composed the
cavalcade, they went out to meet them.

"Hallo! Hunky," shouted Crux, as he rode up and leaped off his steed,
"have they been here?"

"Who d'ye mean?" demanded the scout.

"Why, Jake the Flint, to be sure, an' his murderin' gang. Haven't ye
heard the news?"

"Not I. Who d'ye think would take the trouble to come up here with
noos?"

"They've got clear off, boys," said Crux, in a voice of great
disappointment. "So we must off saddle, an' camp where we are for the
night."

While the rest of the party dismounted and dispersed to look for a
suitable camping-ground, Crux explained the reason of their unexpected
appearance.

After the Flint and his companions had left their mountain fastness, as
before described, they had appeared in different parts of the country
and committed various depredations; some of their robberies having been
accompanied with bloodshed and violence of a nature which so exasperated
the people that an organised band had at length been gathered to go in
pursuit of the daring outlaw. But Jake was somewhat Napoleonic in his
character, swift in his movements, and sudden in his attacks; so that,
while his exasperated foes were searching for him in one direction, news
would be brought of his having committed some daring and bloody deed far
off in some other quarter. His latest acts had been to kill and rob a
post-runner, who happened to be a great favourite in his locality, and
to attack and murder, in mere wanton cruelty, a family of friendly
Indians, belonging to a tribe which had never given the whites any
trouble. The fury of the people, therefore, was somewhat commensurate
with the wickedness of the man. They resolved to capture him, and, as
there was a number of resolute cow-boys on the frontier, to whom life
seemed to be a bauble to be played with, kept, o