They had met!
But who were the white men whose voices assailed her ears?
Ah! Tom Terror and his Thugs had encountered Maverick Joe and his Vigilantes; not the boy lyncher.
The Vigilantes had conquered; their voices told her this, and she wanted to send down to them her approval of their success.
But something checked her. Those men hated the boy lyncher. They had even hunted him, and she—she could not admire such men.
Myra turned from the rock, but the next instant she found herself face to face with a figure that brought a cry to her lips.
“Here you are, my beauty! By Jove! they’ve been settling matters down in the gulch. I thought you were gone when I found the cave empty; but here you are, the girl to make the gold queen of the Eastern coast.”
The waif saw the glitter of the man’s eyes.
“Are you certain about your own neck, Deadly Dan?”
The villain stopped and dropped the hand that he held; then his revolver leaped upward, but the report which followed quickly upon the question, caused it to fall as suddenly.