In A New World: or, Among The Gold Fields Of Australia

"Yes, but he had no intention of betraying any of us."

"What then was his object?" demanded Captain Stockton sternly.

"He meant to leave you. He had become tired of the life of a bushranger. He wished to return to the paths of honesty, and live by labor at some respectable trade."

"And why was this? Why, after so many years, had he become tired of our noble independence?"

"In one of his missions, undertaken in the interest of the fraternity, he had made the acquaintance of a young girl, modest and attractive. He wished to marry her, but as a bushranger he knew this was impossible. Therefore, he resolved to leave our band, and enter upon a new life. He would never have uttered a word to imperil the safety of his captain or his comrades."

"And you expect us to believe this?" said the captain with a sneer.

"I do. I swear it is true."

"And what do you expect me to do, Robert Graham?"

"To consider his temptations, and to show mercy upon him."

"Perhaps also you expect me to release him, and bid him go his way to the maiden who is waiting for him."

"It would be a generous act."

"But I am not so generous," said the captain. "Your plea is ingenious, but I put no faith in it. It is utterly improbable. You and your brother have been with us for seven years. You have become accustomed to our ways. He was faithful and loyal till the love of gold made him a traitor. What he sought was blood money."

"No, a thousand times, no!" exclaimed the brother earnestly.

"I say it is so," said Captain Stockton harshly. "It is plain to every member of the band. Yet, because you have never transgressed, I have been willing to listen to you, remembering that he is your brother."

"Spare his life at least; even if you are convinced that he is guilty.

He has not lived his life half out. Be merciful!"

"I cannot," answered the captain in an inflexible tone. "If I yielded to such a weakness all discipline would be at an end. If treachery is to be pardoned, who knows which one among you might be the next to imitate the example of this man. No! justice is stern, and punishment must be inflicted. The guilty must be punished though the heavens fall. Men, stand aside!"

[Illustration: The Death of the Bushranger Captain.]

This was addressed to the two men who stood, one on each side of the condemned bushranger.

They obeyed the command of their chief and he, raising his revolver, pointed it at the breast of the unhappy offender.

There was a moment of intense excitement. Harry and Jack were spellbound. Their faces were pale, and wore an expression of horror. They were about to see a human life taken. They could hardly forbear uttering a groan.

The silence was broken by a sharp, explosive sound. The deadly weapon had done its work; but it was not the captive who had received the winged messenger of death. It was the captain himself who staggered and with one convulsive movement fell prone to the earth.

CHAPTER XIV. ELECTION OF A NEW CAPTAIN

The excitement among the bushrangers was intense. Simultaneously they started forward, and two of them, bending over, lifted the body of their prostrate leader. But he was already dead. The bullet had reached his heart, and probably he never knew what hurt him.

Robert Graham, the man who had caused his death, stood erect and unflinching.

He threw his weapon upon the ground, folded his arms, and said, in a tone devoid of fear: "Comrades, do with me what you will. I could not help doing what I did. It was either my brother's life or his. Sandy was innocent of the crime charged against him. He had no thought of treachery, though he did mean to leave your ranks. Is there anyone among you that would stand by and see his brother murdered before his eyes when he had the means of preventing it?"

The bushrangers looked at each other in doubt. They had at first accepted the captain's statement that Sandy Graham was a traitor. His brother's explanation of his attempted desertion put a new face on the matter. Then, again, there was not one among them that had not tired of their despotic leader. Alive, he had impressed them with fear, and held them in strict subordination, but he was far from popular, and had no real friend among them. So, though they were startled and shocked, there was no one to shed a tear over the dead. It was a moment of doubt when a leader was wanted.

"Well," said Robert Graham, after a pause, "what are you going to do with me? I wait your pleasure."

"He ought to be served as he served the captain," said Fletcher, who disliked Graham, and had always been a toady to Captain Stockton.

"I say no," rejoined Rupert Ring, a man of medium height, but of great muscular development. "It was a terrible deed, but had my brother – I have a brother in England, whom I have not seen for fifteen years – been in Sandy Graham's shoes, I would have done the same."

There was a half murmur, which seemed like approval.

"And after all," continued Ring, "though Sandy Graham was in fault, he is not the first man that has been beguiled by a fair face."

"No, no!" was heard from several of the bushrangers.

"I don't wish to speak ill of the dead, but he drew the reins too tight at times. He forgot that we have rights."

Again there was a murmur of assent. It was evident that he was carrying his comrades with him.

"I move, therefore, that we pass over Robert Graham's deed as one to which he was impelled by brotherly affection, and that we restore Sandy Graham to his place in our ranks, on condition that he does not repeat the offence. Those who agree with me, hold up their right hands."

All hands were raised except that of Fletcher.

"Release the prisoner," said Ring, turning to the two attendants.

Instantly the rope was cut, the dark cloth was removed, and Sandy Graham, a tall, athletic, good-looking fellow, stepped forth, his face pale from the terrible strain to which he had been subjected.

"Comrades, brothers," he said, in a voice indicating deep emotion, "I thank you for giving me back my life. It shall be devoted to your service."

The first to press forward, and grasp his hand convulsively was his brother, Robert Graham.

"Robert," said Sandy, "but for your brave act I should have been lying dead instead of him," and he pointed, with a shudder, to the dead captain.

"For your sake, Sandy," said Robert solemnly, "I have shed human blood.

To save your life, I have become a murderer."

"No, Robert, you cannot be called that any more than if you had shed blood in self-defence."

Their conversation was interrupted by Rupert Ring.

"Comrades," he said, "the captain is dead. We can do nothing without a leader. We should appoint one at once."

Here Fletcher pushed forward.

"I am the oldest in service among you," he said. "I was the trusted friend of Captain Stockton. I submit that I have the best claim to be your leader."

But among bushrangers, as in other communities, the man who is the most anxious to secure office is very apt to be left in the lurch. Now, it happened that Fletcher was by no means a favorite in the band. He was sly and sneaking in his methods, currying favor with the captain, even at the expense of manliness and self-respect, and there were serious doubts as to his courage. If he had been wiser, he would not have made a boast of his standing with the late leader, for the men were heartily tired of his tyranny, and resolved to elect someone in his place who bore no similarity to him.