“No, a thousand times, no!” exclaimed the brother earnestly.
“I say it is so,” said Captain Stockton harshly. “It is plain to every member of the band. Yet, because you have never transgressed I have been willing to listen to you, remembering that he is your brother.”
“Spare his life at least; even if you are convinced that he is guilty. He has not lived his life half out. Be merciful!”
“I cannot,” answered the captain, in an inflexible tone. “If I yielded to such a weakness all discipline would be at an end. If treachery is pardoned, who knows which one among you might be the next to imitate the example of this man. No! justice is stern, and punishment must be inflicted. The guilty must be punished though the heavens fall. Men, stand aside!”
This was addressed to the two men who stood, one on each side of the condemned bushranger.
They obeyed the command of their chief, and he, raising his revolver, pointed it at the breast of the unhappy offender.
There was a moment of intense excitement, Harry and Jack were spellbound.
The silence was broken by a sharp, explosive sound. The deadly weapon had done its work; but it was not the captive who had received the winged messenger of death. It was the captain himself who staggered, and with one convulsive movement fell prone to the earth.
The excitement among the bushrangers was intense. Simultaneously they started forward, and two of them, bending over, lifted the body of their prostrate leader. But he was already dead.
Robert Graham, the man who had caused his death, stood erect and unflinching.