"Bah! You-uns know too much, fer ye've called my name! That settles ye! Ye must hang anyway, now!"
Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!
From much nearer, came the sound of the bugle, awakening hundreds of mellow echoes, which were flung from crag to crag till it seemed that the mountains were alive with buglers.
The clatter of a horse's iron-shod feet could be heard, telling that the rider was coming like the wind down the valley.
"Cut free ther feet o' ther pris'ners!" panted the leader of the Black Caps. "Work quick! Muriel will be here in a few shakes, an' we-uns must be done. All ready thar! Up with 'em!"
CHAPTER XLII.
MURIEL.
Ta-ra-tar! Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!