Nick Carter had had experience enough as an army officer to know a great deal about military strategy. He was aware that the menace of a flanking movement was something whose importance no general overlooked. If once the wings of their black pursuers outstripped them far enough to close in and get them in a ring, they would be as helpless as rats in a trap. “Get to the river!” was Nick’s low-voiced instruction to his two assistants. “How far ahead is it?” asked Patsy. “I’ve lost track of distances since I’ve been in this wood.” “A hundred and fifty feet,” replied Chick. “Keep quiet! Don’t talk! Save your breath!” “I notice you’re not using any sign language yourself!” retorted Patsy. “And you don’t sound as if you had more breath than the rest of us, either.” Patsy Garvan could not have kept out of an argument if there had been a spear within six inches of his heart. He dearly loved the last word, no matter where he was. A sullen gleam of water could be made out through the tangle of trees. Surely they could cover the short distance between them and their boat, lying at the river bank before the foe cut them off. They were not there yet, however. A dark figure shot up ahead of the three flying detectives. Hardly had this one figure come into view, when there was another and another. “They’ve closed us in!” cried Chick. “Just what I was afraid of.” “Looks like it,” assented Nick Carter. “Well, there’s only one thing to do. We must rush them and take our chances of breaking through.” “They’ll be taking the chances--not us!” shouted Patsy, with his usual drive-ahead cocksureness. “We could lick that bunch if our arms were in a sling.” “Of course we can, but we’ll have to fight. There’s more of them every moment. Blaze away, both of you, and fire from the hip. Don’t take the time to aim. After that, revolvers! Come on, boys!” Nick Carter’s tone was full of confidence, and his two assistants would have charged a regiment at that instant. Several spears whizzed in front. But the darkness caused them all to go wild, although they were near enough to be uncomfortable. Patsy insisted afterward that one scraped the skin off the end of his nose and mussed his hair. “Here you are!” shouted Nick. “There’s a hole in their line.” “Where?” questioned Patsy. “If you don’t see it, make one!” snapped Chick. “Rush through somehow!” Shoulder to shoulder, Nick Carter and his two men charged at the yelling natives and went through their formation like the center rush in a varsity football game. It was at this moment that they heard Jefferson Arnold roaring excitedly: “Swing to the right, Carter! Swing out to the right!” The three obeyed this injunction, just as there came some more flying spears. At the same instant two rifles spoke from the river bank. The shots took the Hindus by surprise, and for a few seconds they were completely demoralized.