The foremost of the brigands rolled over, stone dead.
This was warm work.
But as if it had not grown hot enough, there suddenly appeared upon the scene two men armed with rifles and revolvers.
These two men were crack shots, unluckily for the brigands, and they speedily gave proof of their skill.
Two of the mountaineers bit the dust before they could dream of helping themselves.
Not three minutes had elapsed since the firing of the first shot, and already six men were down.
"Surrender!" said one of the new-comers, in a loud, authoritative voice.
But instead of responding, one of the Greeks drew a pistol and levelled it at the towering figure of Harkaway, for of course he was one of the marksmen, but before he could pull the trigger, bang went another chamber of the old man's revolver, and the pistol fell to the ground.
The hand which had held it was helpless, the arm shattered at the elbow.
There was in truth something dreadful in this carnage.