The brigands were driven like sheep from their hiding places and scattered like chaff before the wind.
The battle was all over in thirty minutes.
Then the Kite returned, and Frank, unharmed, leaped from the deck once more.
“I don’t believe they will trouble us again at once,” he declared. “We are safe for the time, I think.”
And he was right. Red Muriel did not return to the attack.
There was nothing further to keep them in the Andes, and particularly was Harding anxious to go.
“We have six men as guides,” he declared. “We can go overland to Lima. It will not be so far as to Quito, and there or at Callao we can get a homebound steamer. Once I set foot on United States soil again I will not soon leave it.”
“Same here,” cried Mr. Dane; “but before we start we must thank Mr. Reade for his very kind services.”
“It is nothing,” said Frank, warmly. “But why do you travel overland?”
Mr. Dane looked astonished.