"You may go," I answered, firmly, "but not a step do I stir until I see that old sailor provided for. He saved my life, and I will try and save his."
"Don't mind me, matey," cried the wounded man, in a feeble tone; "my cruise is nearly up, and the log book will soon record my fate."
"If you die you shall expire without the torture of fire. We cannot save your companions, and indeed hardly know whether we can save ourselves, but the experiment shall be tried."
"Well, well," Murden said, seeing that I was firm in my demand, "we will share our den with him. Lift him up, men, and place him in our vault as carefully as possible."
The policemen performed the duty with an alacrity that I did not anticipate, and after I had seen the old sailor placed in a corner of the vault, and Rover by the side of him, I turned to join Fred and Murden, who were still arguing whether they could desert the other bushrangers and yet appear honorable in the eyes of the world.
"The old follow seems a little cast down," said one of the police, as I prepared to leave the vault.
I answered in the affirmative, and was continuing on, when the man touched me on the arm.
"Hist," he whispered; "don't say a word, but it's a little wine I have in my canteen which the old robber is welcome to, if you think it will do him any good."
I grasped the treasure with more pleasure than I should have experienced had I found a bag of gold flung at my feet. I thanked the kind-hearted man for his offering, and in another instant. I had poured a portion of the contents of the canteen down the grizzly old fellow's neck.
The drink revived him. He expressed his pleasure at my kindness by a glance from his sunken eyes that told of a warm heart, even if it beat within the breast of a robber.