"If one of you fellers are acquainted with a prayer or two, p'raps it would be well to mutter it over the poor devil, so that his soul may not be snatched by the evil one as soon as it leaves his body," said a bushranger of grim aspect, speaking to Fred and myself.
"I will willingly do all that I can to comfort the dying man," I replied; "but first I want my arms untied, so that I can hear his last words."
"Well, that's only asking for a reasonable thing, and hang me if I won't risk it," replied the grizzly robber, proceeding to untie my hands.
"Hullo," shouted the chief, "what are you about?"
"I'm going to let this feller confess Ben, 'cos I believe he's half priest or parson, and I think it's hard if a man can't have a little religion occasionally."
"Tie the prisoner up again," said Nosey, sternly, laying his hand carelessly upon a pistol which was stuck in his belt.
"Shan't do any thing of the kind," replied the robber, firmly. "Old Ben is going to die, and he wants religion before he starts. I'm not the one to refuse him."
"Once more I tell you to make the prisoner fast to the tree," cried Nosey, drawing the pistol and cocking it.
"Look a-here—is that your game?" demanded the humane robber; "let me tell you that you had better put up the barker, 'cos I've got one that can speak when it's told to."
The old bushranger drew a pistol and held it in his hand for a moment, and then, turning to his companions, said,—