"That's where your wrong, old top," grinned the world-world famous desperado. "Quick boys! drop on your hands and knees! We'll work up the ravine a couple of rods from the ponies and then strike for the side from which they jumped. Careful, now, we won the race. But if the troopers or Injuns get their peepers on one of us, its death to the whole bunch!" CHAPTER VII. DEW DROP AGAIN TO THE RESCUE. Hurriedly the outlaws dropped to all fours and resumed their hazardous attempt at escape. The bushes that grew in the ravine, fortunately for them, were of sufficient height to conceal their bodies as they advanced. Yet mere concealment, they knew, was not sufficient to insure their safety. Should the keen eyes of soldiers or savages detect a suspicious movement among the brushwood, the hue and cry would instantly be raised. And, aware of this full well, the six sorely pressed bandits crawled with infinite stealth. So near were the troopers that the creaking of their saddle leathers was audible, followed almost instantly by the snapping and cracking of twigs and bushes as the horses picked their way gingerly down the steep side of the ravine. Eagerly the eyes of the cavalrymen searched the bottom of the gorge, bent on discovering the forms of the horses, as their captain had commanded. So thick was the tangle of brushwood, however, that it was several minutes after the desperadoes had heard them crashing into the ravine ere their hearts were set a flutter by excited cries, breaking from several mouths at the same time: "There they are! On the farther side!" The announcement of the discovery was received with wild cheers. "Where? Which direction?" yelled those of the troopers whose sight was unable to discern the dark forms of the ponies writhing in their suffering. "To the East! To the East!" answered the ones who saw them. "Come on! Come on! We've got 'em." Wild with the excitement of the soldiers at the prospect of capturing the desperate cutthroats who had defied all efforts of an army of man-hunters either to kill or to take them into custody, so successfully. Yet scarce had the cries of the exuberant troopers rung out than their commander bellowed: "Give 'em a volley before you ride at 'em. They're tricky devils!" In the exigencies of the moment all thought of military discipline was forgotten. The captain knew his men and the men knew their captain. Many a punitive expedition had they ridden on before, against outlaws and renegade redskins alike and no need was there to waste time in giving book-rule commands. No sooner had the words of caution left the officer's lips than the troopers threw their carbines to their shoulders, sighted them on the dark, struggling forms in the brushwood and pulled the triggers. With deafening roar the guns spoke. Straight and true sped the bullets. But instead of stopping the heart beats of any of the James gang they simply put an end to the miseries of the maimed ponies.