"Right, I believe you are right. Anyway we will try it. Watch them, while I give the right instructions," and Mr. Conroyal crept swiftly to near the center of the little group behind the rampart of rocks.
"Men," he said, speaking low, yet loud enough for all to hear, "we are going to try to capture the whole bunch of scoundrels. At the word, every one of you jump to his feet and point his rifle at the skunks and yell 'Hands UP!' I reckon that will bring every hand up; but, if it don't and any of them act suspicious or make a break, shoot quick, and shoot to kill. Do you all understand?"
All nodded and Mr. Conroyal returned at once to his place by the side of Ham.
At this moment the robbers broke from the rocks and ran swiftly out into the open toward the Big Tree.
"Ready, everybody ready!" whispered Mr. Conroyal.
On came the robbers, until they were within seventy-five feet of the rocks behind which our friends were hiding.
"Now!" yelled Mr. Conroyal, and leaped to his feet, and leveled his rifle. "Hands UP!" he commanded.
And almost at the same moment all the others,—even Mrs. Dickson—leaped to their feet, and leveled their rifles, and yelled: "Hands UP!"
The robbers stopped, as if they had suddenly run into a stone wall, turned their startled eyes on the leveled rifles and the stern-faced men back of them—and then, every hand went up, as if worked by one shaft of machinery, every hand except the hands of Pockface, who, doubtless thinking that his capture would mean death anyway, whirled about suddenly and leaped toward the rocks behind him.
At the same instant Ham's rifle cracked; and the legs of Pockface doubled up under him, and he went down, like a shot rabbit.