It looked as if they would again be taken back to the stakes and kept there until they died. A hopeless fear was in the hearts of the three. Johnson was still back on the hummock.
"Hold 'em!" cried Callack. "Shoot 'em if they resist!"
But none of the three was in a position to resist. Mr. Baxter was grasped by half a dozen hands, and several of the Indians surrounded Fred and Jerry. Mr. Baxter was willing to give up now. Fate was against them. He was about to call to Callack that he would tell where the gold was when a shot was heard at the edge of the camp.
It came so suddenly, and was so evidently fired by some one not connected with the thieving band, that it produced an instant cessation of activities.
Then a voice was heard calling.
"Where be Mr. Baxter? Where be? Where boys? Got plenty help now! Plenty much fight!"
Another shot was heard. Callack looked around wonderingly. Some of his Indians released their hold of the captives.
Just then there rushed into the center of the camp the figure of a man completely enveloped in furs. In his hand he held a rifle, and he rushed up to Callack and pointed the weapon in his face.
"Let Mr. Baxter go!" he shouted. "Me know you. You Callack. Zank tell me. I tie Zank up. He tell all. But he get away. Me see him here."
"Holfax! It's Holfax!" cried Fred in delight.