The two Maoris with the rope set off at a run. But ere the cord could press the swelling throat, George Haughton crashed through the encircling crowd, tumbling them this way and that; and, as he charged down upon them, whirling the mysterious _mere_ over his head, the executioners dropped the rope and fled for their lives, howling. In an instant George was at his friend, plucked the cruel rope from his neck, and flung it away. Then pushing Terence behind him against the tree, he stood on the defensive, eyes glaring, but keen; his chest heaving from his run; challenge and menace in every line of him. CHAPTER X TOGETHER AGAIN When the Maoris recovered from the shock of his rush, they faced George as he stood covering his friend's body with his own. There was no noise, no shouting; but the stern Roman faces looked very grim and determined. Then Winata Pakaro with oily tongue began an argument, in the midst of which was heard the click of the hammer of a gun drawn back to full cock. But while Winata's smooth periods flowed on, there was a sudden rush, a scuffle, a shout of wrathful surprise, and there was George back again under the tree with the rifle in his hand. He had wrested it from the astonished warrior who had so stealthily--as he imagined--made ready to use it. In another moment Terence's wrists and ankles were free and the rifle in his grasp, while George once more flourished his famous club, rightly judging that its moral effect would be considerable, while as to its physical possibilities there was no doubt whatever. [Illustration: In another moment Terence's wrists were free, and the rifle in his grasp (page 106).] These things done in the space of a second or two, George began to harangue the Maoris, but Winata Pakaro cut into his first words with: 'Stand aside, Hortoni! We wish not to injure you; but this man must die.' 'Stand you back, O Winata Pakaro!' retorted George. 'This man is my brother in all but blood, and I say that he shall not die.' There was a roar of incredulous laughter at what the chiefs took to be an expedient lie, and Winata muttered a hasty order over his shoulder. 'Look out!' cried George, suspecting his design. 'Fire as he jumps.' But a long whistle shrilled from Winata's lips, and he flung himself flat on the ground as the Maoris made an ugly rush forward and Terence's rifle spoke. Fortunately for the friends, the bullet merely startled an elderly chief into a most undignified caper as it hummed past his ear, and on the instant Winata leaped from the ground and hurled himself at Terence. But the great fighter was handicapped by his fear of George, whose own weapon came more than once so dangerously near his head that he gave back in alarm; for there was no knowing when that magical piece of greenstone would spring out of its master's hand and begin a devil's dance upon its own account.