in his veins, he could not
have bounded up more quickly. The shock seemed to renew and double his
wonted strength. Like the English bull-dog, with terrible purpose, but
in absolute silence, he rushed over the rubbish towards the man who held
the struggling girl. The man seemed to be a leader, being the only one
of the band who carried a cavalry sabre. The others were armed, some
with short swords, some with carbines and pistols.

Swift though Lawrence was, the chief saw him coming. He let go the
girl, and made a wild cut at him with the sabre.

Lawrence received the cut on his left arm. At the same moment he struck
the villain such a blow with his clenched fist, that it seemed to crush
in his skull, and sent him headlong into the hole out of which they had
just dragged the Indian girl. Fortunately he dropped his sabre as he
fell. With a shout of defiance our hero caught it up, just in time to
arrest the descent of a carbine butt on his head. Next moment the man
who aimed the blow was cleft to the chin, and a united rush of the
robbers was for the moment arrested.

Manuela, helpless and horror-struck, had stood motionless on the spot
where the chief had released her. Lawrence caught her in his left arm,
swung her into an angle of the broken wall, placed himself in front, and
faced his foes.

The villains, though taken by surprise, were no cravens. Apparently
they had already discharged their fire-arms, for only one fired at our
hero with a pistol, and missed his aim. Flinging the weapon at his
adversary with a yell of disappointment, he missed his aim a second
time. At the same moment another of the band--one of the tallest and
most ferocious-looking--sprang upon the youth with terrible fury. He
knew well, apparently, how to use his weapon; and Lawrence felt that his
experience at school now stood him in good stead. As the weapons of
these giants flew around with rapid whirl and clash, the others stood
aside to see the end. Doubtless they would have taken unfair advantage
of their foe if they could, but Lawrence, turning his back to the wall,
where Manuela crouched, prevented that. At last one dastardly wretch,
seeing that his comrade was getting the worst of it, bethought him of
his carbine, and began hurriedly to load. Our hero noted the act, and
understood its fatal significance. With a bound like that of a tiger he
sprang at the man, and cut him down with a back-handed blow, turning,
even in th