Out of the cave came the miners, dragging the prisoners they had taken with them.
Roche turned deathly pale when he saw that it was all up with him.
"Young Wild West," he hissed, "I want to kill you before I die myself! I will never be taken alive, so if you have got the nerve to fight me, come on!"
Wild dropped his revolvers into the holsters and took Jim's knife.
"I'm after you, Cap!" he exclaimed, a smile playing about his mouth. "If you want to kill me, come on!"
Clash!
The knives came together in the air, and then the fight was on.
Young Wild West kept slapping him on the face with the flat of his knife blade, and this was galling to the outlaw.
"What are you, a young fiend?" he cried, savagely, as he received a scratch on the neck, which he knew could have been his finish if the boy had so willed it.
"No," answered Wild; "I am simply a boy who has practiced this sort of business a great deal. Look, out for yourself, Cap! I am going to make you drop that knife!"