"Hush!" he said. "Not a sound, lest they hear us. Guess we've friends close at hand, and in a little while we shall be with them. Stop here a moment; we must wait for Ching."
He peeped out of the gully and watched the Chinaman bending over the bundles that contained the precious notes which Jaime and his comrades had stolen. Then he found it hard to repress a shout of warning; for the figure which he had taken for that of Sadie, the man wearing the boot with the spurred heel moved. Then the man sat up suddenly, and rubbed his eyes. A moment later he was regarding the Chinaman's back, endeavouring, no doubt, in his half-awake state, to determine who it could be. As for Ching, he seemed to have forgotten all about the gang of desperadoes. Jim could have kicked him for being so irritatingly slow, and to all appearances careless; but he could not read the thoughts passing through the Chinaman's brain, nor guess what it was that delayed him. A moment later, however, he became aware of the fact that if his follower were to carry out the orders given him he must bear away from the enemy's camp more than had been arranged for. For the two dark-coloured bundles were wound about with rope, through which a chain had been passed, and the latter had been locked to an iron bar passing across the top of a form of pack saddle. As Jim looked he saw Ching whip out a knife, and deliberately set to work to sever the strands of rope. But by then the man behind him was fully awake. He started to his feet with an exclamation, that caused Ching to swing round on the instant. A second later a shot rang out, and our hero saw his follower stagger backwards and tumble across the bundles.
"Stay here; don't move an inch," he commanded Sadie. "I'm going back to help him."
But whatever help he could have given would have been useless to the Chinaman by the time Jim could have arrived; for the rascal who had fired followed up his attack by rushing towards the fallen Chinaman. Jim saw him bend down swiftly, and then, just as swiftly, he went reeling to one side; for Ching had risen. Like a greyhound set loose he sprang upon his enemy, and the moon shining down upon the whole scene flashed upon something in his hand. Ching had used his formidable knife. The Chinaman, it appeared later, when he was able to give his tale, had merely feigned to be hit. He had waited for the man to come closer, and then had stabbed him. Now he finished the work he had begun with a swiftness which was appalling. He was close to his man in an instant, showing an agility of which Jim had never suspected him capable before, and quick as a flash the knife went home, sending the robber thudding to the ground.
"Back! Run!" shouted Jim, for there was now no need to keep silent. "Back here, and let us get to cover quick!"
"I coming, allee lighty," came the laconic answer. Ching swung the two bundles across his shoulder, bearing the pack saddle with them, and ran swiftly across to the channel; but as he ran the two remaining figures beside the blackened ashes of the fire sprang to their feet, and shots rang out loudly. There came a loud thud as one of the bullets struck the pack saddle, then Ching was out of range.
"Allee lighty, Massa Jim," he sang out coolly. "Ching here; him follow."
And our hero waited for no further information. He took his sister by the arm and hurried her along the gully.
"Bend low," he urged her as they came to the end. "Then run into the jungle; I shall be just behind you."
In a moment or two they were speeding across the open, across the rocky ground which intervened between themselves and the forest, and with a gasp of relief Jim felt that the branches and leaves had closed over them.