A TERRIBLE MOMENT.
"Remember, you are to come back with the truth," said Belle Demona the
next day, when she bade Jem good-by on the edge of the ranch, prior to
his departure for Melbourne.
Jem was serving two masters, or, to be a little more correct, one
master and one mistress.
He was expected by the ranch queen to proceed to Melbourne and there
look into the trap-pit underneath Old Danny's house, while Merle Macray
had his promise that he would go no further than Perth, where he would
sojourn a few days and then come back with a well-coined story.
Whom would he obey--master or mistress?
Merle chuckled to himself when he saw the man from London ride away,
and for some time he watched him with inward satisfaction.
During the remainder of the week nothing very exciting occurred at
Ranch Robin.
Belle Demona thought that the secret of Jem's mission was her own, and
she was as gay as a lark.
Roland Riggs, the new guard, became quite a man about the place.
No one suspected his identity.
Old Broadbrim in that character was a man to be praised, for he did his
work well and became the best and most painstaking of the new guards.
It was the third night after Jem's departure, and Old Broadbrim was
patrolling his beat some distance from the little copse from which
the bandits of the ranches generally made their appearance, when he
discovered something dark moving along the lighter ground.
In another moment he made out the figure of Merle Macray, and saw that
he was approaching him.
The detective looked closely and started.
Had he been suspected and was the old enemy about to unmask him?
Suddenly Merle, in the little moonlight that fell upon the region,
stopped and turned his face toward the copse.
"Hands up!" cried a stern voice from the belt of trees.
Merle looked toward Roland Riggs and seemed to appeal for help.
"Hands up, there! We've come, Sir Nabob."
Out of the copse rushed twenty men and the next minute Merle, with
half-drawn revolver, stood at the mercy of the bandits.
They had come to surprise Ranch Robin at last.
Merle stood at bay till the band came, and Old Broadbrim, crouching
behind a tuft of grass, held his breath, but clutched his repeating
rifle with firm hands.
Merle was seized at once.
His hands were tied behind his back, and then the bandits consulted.
Suddenly one of them turned to their prisoner.
"Where's the money?" he demanded.
Merle's answer was a defiant oath.
"Come! we can't stand to be cursed. Where's the money? In the big house
or in the little one? You'll be a dead man in ten seconds if you don't
spit out the truth."
Merle did not reply.
"Stand him out there, Billy," cried the leader of the plunderers.
"There, that will do. Stand him with his face toward us; so. Now, Merle
of Ranch Robin, your life won't be worth the wick of a candle if you
don't disclose the hiding place of Belle Demona's gold within three
seconds. Time him by the watch, Peter."
One of the bandits, who was a tall, well-dressed fellow, but whose
desperateness showed in every lineament, took a large watch from his
trousers pocket and looked at it.
"He won't betray her. He'll die first," said Old Broadbrim, who
breathlessly watched the scene. "In that case I will lose my map, and
the chase across the sea will end in failure."
The voice of the bandit captain was heard again.
"One!" he said sternly.
Merle did not utter a word.
"Two!"
The figure of Old Broadbrim moved in the grass and the rifle came up
against his shoulder.
He covered the group a few yards away, and then advanced upon it.
"Set him free!" came over the gleaming barrel of the leveled weapon.
The bandits looked up and then exchanged glances.
They saw but one man, and he stood in the moonlight with a rifle to his
shoulder.
"Release Captain Merle!" repeated Old Broadbrim.
"Shoot the prisoner, that will be release enough," cried one of the
robbers of the ranches.
"If you dare!" cried the detective. "It will be worth your leader's
life to issue a command of that kind."
Nearer and nearer came the determined detective.
"Quick, we can kill the guard afterward," said one of the band in
undertones. "It won't take a minute to riddle him."
The ringleader of the brigands issued the order, but at the same time
the detective's rifle spoke and the form of the captain of the robbers
reeled away and tumbled in a heap a few feet from his intended victim.
At the crack of the guard's weapon the brigands scattered, for the
Australian bandit is not overbrave under some circumstances, but Old
Broadbrim did not stop there.
In another second he was emptying the repeating rifle into the horde
with some effect, but the unhurt ones dragged off their comrades and
left Merle alone on the scene of battle.
"By Jove! it was well done!" he cried, springing forward and holding
out his hand to his disguised hunter. "I never saw anything like it,
Riggs."
"I thought you needed help and so I let loose upon the rascals."
"And scattered them like chaff! Why, you shoot like an old hand from
the States."
"I've hunted in the States, as I've told you," smiled Old Broadbrim.
"They won't return again to-night."
"Not they! You've killed their captain, I think, for when they dragged
him away he did not seem to have a spark of life in him. But we'll hear
from them again. They'll want revenge now, but we're too much for them."
The two men walked over to the place where Merle had been captured.
"I was making a quiet inspection of the lines by moonlight," explained
Merle to the guard. "It is necessary at times, for you don't know what
sort of guards you get. But men of your stamp, Riggs, are worth their
weight in gold."
"They're gone, sir. Over the ridge yonder you can hear the last sounds
of their horses."
"Yes. When you get off to-night come into the house," said Merle, and
with this he left Old Broadbrim and went toward the ranch dwelling.
Two hours later the relief came around and Old Broadbrim marched back
to the house.
Already he was a hero.
His comrades received him with demonstrations of delight and he was
overwhelmed with words of praise.
But it was when he entered the presence of Belle Demona and stood
before her, that he feared for his safety.
Her lustrous eyes looked him over from head to foot, and he heard her
questions about the fight with the bandits.
He answered all with coolness, and all the while was watched by Merle,
who stood near and confirmed his story.
"It's all right so far," thought Old Broadbrim. "I'm the hero of the
hour, but let them find me out, or even suspect me, and my life won't
be worth the snuffing of a tallow dip. I am in the lion's den and I
must play out my hand coolly. It is no time for fear--I must lose no
nerve in this new death-trap."
Merle Macray was about to quit the room when a horse stopped in front
of the ranch house and the next moment footsteps sounded on the porch.
As he reached the door it was opened in his face, and a young man, who
showed signs of hard riding, came in and caught Merle's eye.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Tom?" cried the villain.
"Yes. I've a letter from Logan. He told me to spare no time, but to get
it to you at once. It came to the post office this afternoon, and he
gave it to me for prompt delivery."
Merle, with a face full of eagerness, took the letter which the youth
extended and withdrew with a hurried glance at Belle.
"You fight like a prince," said she, looking at Old Broadbrim, who had
taken in the messenger and the letter. "It's a pleasure to know that
one's fortunes are in such good hands at Round Robin Ranch. Some time
you will tell me about your career, for Merle says you have traveled a
great deal."
Old Broadbrim bowed.
"At any time you care to hear my story it is at your disposal," he
answered. "Mine has not been a very exciting life. I learned to shoot
in the States when we used to have brushes with both bear and Indian."
"Accept the thanks of Belle Demona," said the ranch queen. "Consider
yourself engaged for life here. Round Robin Ranch is proud to have such
a protector."
The detective looked out of the window at that moment and caught a
glimpse of a face on the porch among the vines.
He could not help starting at it, for it was the face of a woman with
two glittering basilisk eyes.
Belle Demona did not see it, for she was looking at the new guard.
As for Merle, who had withdrawn to another room, he stood at a little
table with the recently-arrived letter in his hand.
"It's from Danny. I know his writing," he said. "I wonder what the old
man has to say?"
In another second he had torn open the letter, and one glance sufficed.
In that glance he had read these terrible lines:
"Be on your guard! I have just looked into the pit and it is empty.
The man who fell into it the other night is not there, and I have
thrown a light to the bottom of it. So look for him near you by this
time, if he is a Scotland Yarder.
"OLD DANNY."
Out of the pit?
No wonder all semblance of color left Merle's face.
No wonder he looked up with white lips that quivered like the leaves of
the aspen.
Look out for him near Ranch Robin?
Where should he look?
Whom should he suspect?
He read the letter again and then crushed it in his hand.
"I'll find him if he comes here!" he hissed. "I have crossed the ocean
to live again and not to fall into the hands of the shadower. I'll be
ready for him. I'll find this man if he is to be found; but how did he
get out? Perhaps he never fell into the place. That must be it. Why
didn't I look for myself before quitting Melbourne? But never mind. I'm
safe here."
A moment later he came back into the room with the calmest of faces,
and his gaze caught Old Broadbrim's countenance, which stood the ordeal
like a stoic's.
It was a terrible moment.