Judge Clayton. "They
want to know what their captain intends."

"Their captain does not intend to surrender," rejoined the latter
fearlessly. "Let those desert who like."

"I am with you, Captain," quietly said a tall young man, of German
accent, who had been foremost in the fighting.

[Illustration: "I am with you, Captain."]

"Good, Lieutenant Kammerer, I knew you'd stick," commented the
leader.

"As to the boat, Judge Clayton," resumed Dunwody, "what shall we do
with her?"

"Burned boats tell no tales," here called out young Yates
sententiously.

"You hear," said Dunwody. "My men are not children."

"It's piracy, that's all," rejoined the young leader,

"Not in the least, sir," broke in Judge Clayton. "We'll burn her
here, tied to this bank on Missouri soil. The river fell during
the night--some inches in all--she's hard aground on the shore."

"Fall in, men!" commanded Dunwody suddenly. "Jamieson, fix up my
leg, the best you can. It'll have to take its chances, for we're
in a hurry. About the paroled men, get them in the rowboats and
set them loose. Get your crippled men off the boat at once,
Jamieson. This couple of prisoners I am going to take home with
me. The rest can go.

"But there's one thing we've forgotten--where's that girl?" He
turned to the northern leader.

"She's below, in the cabin."

"Go get her, Clayton," commanded Dunwody. "We'll have to be quick
now."

Clayton found his way down the narrow companionway and in the
darkness of the unlighted lower deck fumbled for the lock of the
cabin. When he threw open the door he found the interior dimly
lighted by the low window. At first he could make out nothing, but
at last got a glimpse of a figure at the farther side of the little
room. "Who's there!" he demanded, weapon ready.

There was no answer, but slowly, wearily, with unspeakable sadness
in every gesture, there rose the figure of the girl Lily, around
whose fortunes had centered all these turbulent scenes.

In the confusion which followed, no one had a clear conception of
all the events which concluded this tragic encounter. Dunwody,
Jamieson and Clayton cleared the men from the decks of the boat.
The wounded hobbled to a place of shelter. The dead were laid out
in a long and ghastly row at the edge of the willow grove.
Meantime, busy hands brought dried brush and piled it up against
the side of the boat as she lay against the bank, the leader in
this being