"Thank God for that!" murmured Mr. Baxter. "He came just in time!"
Following their brave leader came two score of friendly Indians, uttering shouts of defiance at the enemies of Holfax's friends.
Several shots were fired. The thieves, taken by surprise, were unable to make any defense. Several of them were hit by bullets and slightly injured.
With a cry of defeat they began to run away. Those having hold of the boys had left them, and Fred and Jerry were free. Callack suddenly drew a revolver from his pocket and aimed it at Mr. Baxter. But before he could pull the trigger Holfax, swinging his rifle as a club, knocked the rascal down.
"Don't kill him!" begged Mr. Baxter, merciful even to his enemy.
But Holfax had no chance. Callack scrambled to his feet and ran away. He must have been bewildered by the sudden rescue, for he ran straight toward a deep ravine near the camp, and before any one could call out to warn him he had fallen over the steep cliff. The bad man was seen no more.
By this time the friendly Indians were in possession of the camp. The wounded ones, including Zank, limped off, leaving all their possessions with the rescuers.
"How be?" asked Holfax of his friends, grinning in a friendly fashion.
"Almost starved," replied Mr. Baxter. "Boys, we must get some food at once and see to poor Johnson."
"Me do it," spoke Holfax, and he was as good as his word. Soon pots of hot tea were ready, and, with their own supplies to draw on, the half-starved and nearly frozen captives feasted to their hearts' content.