“All the powder from the big flask, father,” cried Norman. “There must have been a pound.”
At that moment there were shouts, as a dozen mounted men cantered up, cheering with all their might, and the task of extinguishing the still burning wood was soon at an end.
Amidst the congratulations that followed little was said about the blacks.
“Come back?” cried a familiar voice, fiercely. “I only wish they would, eh, Henley?”
“My dear Freeston,” was the reply, “I never felt such a strong desire to commit murder before.”
“God bless you all, gentlemen,” cried the captain in a broken voice. “You have saved our lives.”
There was a low murmur here from the rescuers.
“But how—how was it?” asked the captain; “how did you know?”
“Don’t you see, father?” cried Rifle, indignantly; “it was poor old Shanter.”
“What? You went for help, Tam?”