In haste Sandoff sped back to the bridge, his heart throbbing with excitement. A low call brought forth Shamarin and Vera, still drowsy with sleep. The keen air soon sharpened their senses, and they understood the situation. Sandoff took Vera in charge and led her down to the point of rocks. “There comes the sledge,” he said, pointing along the frozen road. “Now get in here and crouch down,” pointing to a hollow spot among the rocks. “Your task is simple. When the sledge has gone past, watch the road before you, and if anything approaches give us prompt warning.” With these instructions he hastened back to the bridge, where Shamarin was waiting. The daring men then took up positions on opposite sides of the road, crouching behind masses of frozen snow. Sandoff had the rifle, Shamarin the pistol, and both weapons were loaded. “There must be no failure,” said Sandoff grimly. “There _will_ be no failure,” echoed Shamarin from across the way. Then all was silent—except for the musical tinkle of bells and crunching of hoofs on the snow. Five minutes later—it may have been less and it may have been more—the sledge whizzed into view from around the point of rocks. The three horses, harnessed abreast, were galloping at full speed, and the only occupant of the sledge was Serge Zamosc, muffled to the nose in furs and holding the lines with a practiced hand. On and on it came until the planking of the bridge was less than half a dozen yards away. The moment had come. Sandoff and Shamarin sprang up, reaching the center of the road at a bound, and turned their weapons straight into Serge Zamosc’s eyes. “Stop, or we fire,” they cried loudly. Zamosc, for all his treacherous traits, was no coward. His first impulse was to check his horses, and he acted upon it—partly. Then he turned to grasp his gun, but finding it out of reach, he struck his horses a terrific blow with the whip and rolled backward from his seat into the body of the sledge. The frightened steeds plunged forward, but Shamarin was on the alert, and clutched at the lines. He caught them, was dragged along for a few yards, still holding tight, and then, gaining a foothold, he turned the tide and brought the triple team to a standstill on the very edge of the bridge.