easts," said the doctor. "Very
well; we must all put on our wisdom caps and puzzle it out. I'll go and
have a chat with Wilton now."

The little meeting broke up, and Griggs went to spend his short time
before going on duty in cleaning his rifle, while, as if attracted to
the same spot, Chris and Ned followed him to a sheltered nook near the
place where a bucket was standing ready for sending down to the running
water and bringing up refilled.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

THE OTHER SIDE.

As the two boys made their way amongst the scattered stones they caught
sight of the doctor stepping out on to the terrace where Wilton stood,
glass in hand, scanning the opposite terraces and the sharp edge of the
top, where the precipice stood out clear against the sky.

"I wonder whether they'll hit on a good idea," said Ned. "Here, let's
sit down. I say, Griggs, you might be a good fellow and give my
rifle-barrel a brush out too."

"I don't say I won't," replied the American. "I might give yours a
touch up too, squire. I'll see," he continued. "I don't expect you're
in very good trim for pumping water through gun-barrels."

"No," said Chris, wincing as he raised his arm and lowered it again as
if passing a cleaning-rod through the piece.

"Here, steady!" cried Griggs. "Don't take yours to pieces yet. One at
a time. We might want to have another shot or two at these red Robin
Hoods."

"'Tisn't likely," said Ned.

"Isn't it? You never know what's likely with those gentlemen. While
we're out here in the wilds we want to be always ready for action."

The American chatted away as he took his rifle to pieces, washing,
carefully drying, and oiling it, in the hot sunshine, while Chris placed
himself in a restful position to avoid aches and pains, and Ned leaned
back against a stone with his hands behind his head, never once joining
in the conversation. In fact, part of the time he seemed to be dozing,
for his eyes were half-closed. At last, though, he started suddenly,
made a gesture with his open hand as if catching a fly off his leg, and
exclaimed--

"I've got it!"

"Kill it, then," said Griggs, without looking up from his task. "What
is it--a skeeter?"

"No," cried Ned excitedly. "The idea!"

"You have?" said Chris eagerly.

"Yes!"

"Let's have it, then," said Griggs, "only be gentle. Don't startle us
too much."

"Don't you begin sneering," said Ned, rather haughtily. "Other people
may have brig