“I’m willing to abide by the regulations,” the murderer said, with alacrity.

“I intend that you shall, for I am about to constitute myself a judge and jury, and punish you for shedding blood, as I think it should be punished.  Stand up.”

The fellow staggered to his feet, and we could see him glance with apprehension upon his leader, and then turn towards his comrades an appealing look, as though desirous of their support during his trying ordeal.

“You killed old Bill without a moment’s warning for telling the truth, for I have been told by others that you was one of the first to run, and yet you saw nothing but a shadow, at which you was frightened.  You deserve death, and at my hands you shall receive it.”

“For God’s sake don’t kill me, cap’en!” shrieked the young fellow, in an agony of terror, throwing himself upon his knees, and begging for mercy; “I have served you long and faithfully, and robbed as many miners as any man in the gang.”

“That certainly should entitle him to mercy,” whispered Mr. Brown, giving me a nudge with his elbow, as though I was asleep.

The leader of the bushrangers did not make any reply, but coolly drew a pistol from his belt.

“The cold-blooded scoundrel intends to murder the man!” Mr. Brown said, trembling with excitement and indignation; “why don’t the brutes interfere, and save the life of their comrade?”

“Take notice, men,” said the robber chief, addressing his gang, “that I am about to punish a man for committing a murder, and that hereafter, if you must quarrel, refer the matter to me for settlement, and if I do not satisfy you with my decision, then you can appeal to the knife or pistol, as can be agreed upon.  Have you any reason why sentence should not be executed upon this man?”

There was no response.  The villains would not even raise their voices to save a comrade’s life.

“I should imagine the fellow was the Lord High Chancellor of England to hear him talk,” muttered Mr. Brown; “lend me your revolver, and the instant the ruffian fires I will give him a shot if it costs me my life.”

“And it would cost not only your life, but mine, and that I am not disposed to relinquish yet.  Be patient, for we can do nothing to save the poor devil,” I replied.

The man whose doom had been pronounced, a second time threw himself upon the ground, and crawled to the feet of the leader in humble supplication for mercy.  He shed tears, and vowed that if his life was spared, he would steal with renewed energy, and be more faithful than ever; and for a while I thought the chief would relent, but during a moment’s pause, I distinctly heard the click of a pistol lock, and saw Tyrell’s arm raised as though taking aim.

’I shut my eyes to hide the dreadful sight, and expected to hear the report of the weapon and the groans of the victim, but while I was speculating on the length of time that the poor devil was kept in suspense, I received a tremendous nudge from Mr. Brown’s elbow, accompanied by the exclamation of—­