CHAPTER XLVIII. IN THE NICK OF TIME. Being now fully acquainted with the plan of Ricardo, Captain la Clyde went rapidly around the line and quietly told the men whom they were to fight as their foe, and begged them to steel their hearts against any thought of mercy, and to never yield one inch of ground, for the motto of the Branded Brotherhood was that men must die, and beauty and booty be considered lawful prizes. Hardly had the young officer made the circuit, when a dark mass of moving horsemen was seen approaching, and a clear voice hailed. “Well, what do you want?” answered Percy la Clyde. “We have defeated your enemies, and would warn you that we are friends, that you may not fire upon us,” replied the voice that hailed. “We know no friends in the dark. If you are such as you represent, camp on the river until daylight; if you are enemies, we are ready for you,” coolly shouted back Captain la Clyde. “Charge!” was then yelled in the commanding voice of Ricardo, and like a fiery whirlwind his horsemen swept down upon the devoted defenders of the train. “Throw no shots away, men! Fire!” cried Percy la Clyde. A line of flame flashed from the wagons, and several of the Brotherhood and their horses went down. But, from some cause or other, the aim of the emigrants had been untrue, and the outlaws pressed fiercely on, filling the air with their discordant cries, every man yelling in his native tongue, until it seemed as if the very fiends from below had burst forth for a gala night. “Men, be cool; there are devils upon you now, and your aim must be true; you must kill, or all is lost,” rang out in the clear tones of Captain la Clyde and Major Conrad. Howard Lawrence, who had thrown off his air of indifference and nobly come to the front, also encouraged the men by voice and gesture. Then rolled forth a ceaseless roar of firearms, the heavy rush of iron hoofs was heard, and the confused shouts of many voices filled the air, until it seemed the grove was filled with a band of devils holding high carnival. But, unchecked, and with desperate daring and determination, the Brotherhood came on until they dashed their horses against the very line of breastworks. Then their weapons began to tell upon the emigrants, who broke from the fierce fire and fell back, to the horror of Percy la Clyde, who called forth, in trumpet voice: “Troopers, rally around your commander! Steady, now, charge!” Gallantly the soldiers rallied around their officer, and dashed forward with him to recover the ground lost by the emigrants. But already had Ricardo bounded on horseback over the barrier. Followed by a dozen of his daring horsemen, he dashed upon the dismounted troopers, who, in a vain attempt to check his mad career, fell beneath the iron hoofs of the outlaws’ horses. “My God, it cannot be that all is lost!” cried Percy la Clyde, in dread. Then, drawing his sword, he shouted: