The ringleader of the brigands issued the order, but at the same time the detective's rifle spoke and the form of the captain of the robbers reeled away and tumbled in a heap a few feet from his intended victim.
At the crack of the guard's weapon the brigands scattered, for the Australian bandit is not overbrave under some circumstances, but Old Broadbrim did not stop there.
In another second he was emptying the repeating rifle into the horde with some effect, but the unhurt ones dragged off their comrades and left Merle alone on the scene of battle.
"By Jove! it was well done!" he cried, springing forward and holding out his hand to his disguised hunter. "I never saw anything like it, Riggs."
"I thought you needed help and so I let loose upon the rascals."
"And scattered them like chaff! Why, you shoot like an old hand from the States."
"I've hunted in the States, as I've told you," smiled Old Broadbrim. "They won't return again to-night."
"Not they! You've killed their captain, I think, for when they dragged him away he did not seem to have a spark of life in him. But we'll hear from them again. They'll want revenge now, but we're too much for them."
The two men walked over to the place where Merle had been captured.
"I was making a quiet inspection of the lines by moonlight," explained Merle to the guard. "It is necessary at times, for you don't know what sort of guards you get. But men of your stamp, Riggs, are worth their weight in gold."