eled. The dead avenged,
his name stainless, Oswald Langdon will sail for that western
republic, no longer a hunted refugee.

How elusive Fate's alliance!

For many months the survey party has tramped up and down the slopes of
the Himalayas. Nothing has happened to interfere with the purposes of
this undertaking. The chief is preparing for return to Calcutta.

Oswald and Karl Ludwig have taken a ride of several miles from camp. In
the distance Karl sees a solitary horseman. Through his field-glasses he
notes that the distant rider is beckoning toward some farther point.
Four horsemen, with rifles across their saddles, are now in sight.
Oswald has been hidden from view of these by a slope upon which Karl
reined his horse. The four when within about a mile veer to the right.
It soon becomes evident to Karl that these are trying to get between him
and the camp. He tells Oswald his fears, who promptly joins Karl, facing
these unknown horsemen. Making a turn near the trail, the four rapidly
approach. Both drop their bridle-reins, grasping the repeating,
long-range weapons.

[Illustration: "WHEN WITHIN ABOUT A HALF-MILE, THE FOUR RAISED THEIR
WEAPONS."]

When within about a half-mile the four raise their guns at once. Karl
and Oswald elevate their weapons, and the six discharges seem together.
Karl's rifle drops, and he hurriedly loosens his feet from the stirrups,
as the horse sinks, shot through the brain. Oswald again shoots, when
his horse falls to the ground. The remaining two of the enemy press
forward, firing repeatedly. Karl has been disabled by a wound in the
right arm, and can render no further help. His gun has rolled down the
slope, out of reach.

His horse dead and Karl wounded, Oswald again fires, while shots whiz by
his head. Only one of the attacking party is now advancing. Oswald fires
his remaining charge, but fails to stop his foe, who takes deliberate
aim.

Seeing that his only chance to escape being killed is by feigning death,
Oswald drops heavily to the ground. With yell the other spurs forward,
followed in the distance by another, who, having lost his horse, now
rushes to be in at the death.

Having signaled Karl to make no resistance, Oswald is lying in apparent
stupor when the horseman rides up and dismounts. Bending over the
prostrate form, his long black hair is grasped by Oswald's left hand,
who, springing to his feet and giving that strong right arm a swing,
strikes the surprised bandit