The Danites stood over the man, who had fallen on his face, and lay in a huddled heap. They were talking loudly and making excited gestures. It was plain that they were discussing the advisability of dispatching Professor Scotch without delay, and, judging from his movements, the man with the short white beard was for finishing him without delay. Twice the man pointed his revolver at the prostrate figure, and twice a younger man seemed to urge him to spare the unlucky man's life.
"If he shoots, I'll try a shot at him from here!" cried Frank. "I may not be able to reach him, but I'll try it."
A third time the man pointed his revolver at the motionless form of the man who lay huddled on the ground. This time no one of the group interfered; all stood back, and the younger man, who had twice saved Scotch's life, turned away, plainly unwilling to witness the deed.
"He's going to shoot!" panted Frank, pulling forward his rifle, and bringing it to his shoulder. "I will——"
"Wait a bit, me b'y. Look there! Th' litthle girrul is thrying to save him."
"God bless her!"
Miskel had rushed into the midst of the men, and she was seen pleading with the man who seemed determined to kill the professor. At first, it seemed that she would fail, but she finally prevailed, and the man put up his weapon, with a gesture of angry impatience. Then he seemed to give some orders, and the unconscious captive was lifted and carried toward the camp.
"He is saved for the time," breathed Frank, with relief; "but it is simply a respite."
"Thot is betther than nothing, me b'y."
"Yes, it is better than nothing. Barney, I have a scheme."