“I made a mistake, boys. I--I----” He started to flee without finishing his sentence. CHAPTER XXIX. “I AM GIDEON BAYNE.” Before Joe could realize just what was taking place, and the terrified man had not taken his second step, a section of the big chimney which had been built from the bottom of the cellar was torn down, and from out of the midst of flying brick and _débris_ stood the figure of a man. Seen by the dim lantern light he appeared like a giant in stature, while in either hand he held a cocked revolver, one weapon leveled at the fleeing miscreant, while the other was pointed toward his confederates, and his stentorian voice, sounding uncommonly loud and clear in that underground room, commanded: “Hold! Another step and I will measure the earth with your foul body!” “I’m lost!” cried the frightened fugitive, falling upon his knees. “It’s the ghost of Tim Bayne!” It was little wonder if the man’s companions stood trembling with fear, and that Joe Willet, brave girl that she was, nearly fainted. Slowly advancing from the cloud of dust and dirt which had enveloped his form, the man with the deadly weapons continued: “I have caught you in your own trap. The man who lifts a finger dies like a dog. It would be a blessing to man if I should send these bullets through your worthless bodies.” “Oh, spare me! Spare me!” begged the wretch upon his knees. “I did not want to come here, but they made me. It was the buried treasure that did it. We were going away as soon as we got that.” A commotion which had been suddenly started overhead at that moment arrested the attention of the others. Besides loud voices, could be heard the tramp of many feet, so that it seemed as if a large party had forced an entrance into the house. Joe had heard this sudden outbreak above, and it had suddenly occurred to her that the sheriff and his posse had returned. But the peril, as great as it was, seemed to arouse her to swift action. Though the man who was holding the desperadoes at bay was unknown to her, he was proving himself an enemy to the night marauders, and this fact told her that she could look to him for friendship. In this dilemma she boldly addressed him. He showed no surprise at her words. “I need your assistance,” he said. “Get me some strong cord or rope, so I may secure my birds. After that we will look further. “I will get you the rope in a minute,” replied Joe, starting up the stairs. It was prudent that she should move cautiously, expecting, as she did, that she was to find enemies in the house. But she had barely reached the top of the stairs before the well-known voice of Little Hickory came to her ears, sending a thrill of joy to her heart. “Where is Joe?” he asked. “Here!” she replied, bursting into the room; and regardless of the others present, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing: “I am so glad you have come, Rob.”