“Curse ye for a cowardly villain!” yellen the doctor.  “If yer don’t stop this instant, I’ll drive a piece of cold lead through yer thick skull.”

He drew from his breast pocket a rifle pistol as he spoke, and aimed it at the runaway.

The driver looked over his shoulder, and seemed half inclined to obey, but the sound of approaching horses stirred him into life.  He struck his animals a smart blow with his whip, and they sprang forward; but as they did so, the doctor raised his pistol, sighted hastily, and fired.

The fellow’s hat fell to the ground, and with a yell of triumph at his lucky escape, the driver continued on, and in a few minutes would have been beyond reach; but just at that instant my noble dog—­the hound which I had left under lock and key at Smith’s house—­bounded towards me and covered my face with his kisses.

A lucky thought occurred to me; I glanced at Wattles, and saw that he had fainted from exhaustion and pain, and that it was certain death for him to be exposed to the hot rays of the sun for any length of time, so I determined to save him at any hazard.

“Here, Rover,” I said, calling to the dog, and pointing to the retreating carriage, “seize him, good dog—­seize him,” I shouted.

The animal did not hesitate for an instant.  With a mighty bound he cleared over twenty feet of the distance which separated him from the object which I had called his attention to, and almost before I could think, he seized the near horse by the throat, and brought him heavily to the ground.  The driver rose from his seat and plied his whip with desperate energy, in hopes of beating the dog off, but such was the agility of Rover that not a blow reached him, and while his attention was thus occupied, O’Haraty stole forward, grasped the man by the leg, dragged him to the ground, and commenced to beat him unmercifully, mingling his blows with such exclamations as—­

“Lave us, would ye?” May the divil saze ye, ye mane thief of the world.  Whin I hired ye to tend us and behave like a dacent man, ye up and cuts, jist because me friend gets a scratch on his arm.”

“The police are coming,” roared the fellow, rendered desperate by his beating.

“Let them come, if they will, but ye shan’t go,” cried the doctor, sitting astride of his fallen foe and glancing at Fred and I in triumph, while the perspiration streamed down his face in torrents.

“I saw the police trotting down the road,” yelled the fallen man.

“Who calls the police?” cried a deep-toned voice near at hand.

I knew the speaker well, although I confess that it started me to hear him so unexpectedly, and looking up I saw that Murden sat on his horse, a few paces off, calmly surveying the strange group before him.  At a short distance were six of his men, also mounted and drawn up in line awaiting their chief’s solution of the difficulty.

“I think that my presence is needed here if you intend to murder that fellow, doctor,” Murden said, good naturedly, addressing O’Haraty, who kept his position, looking somewhat foolish at being caught.