"We must be acting," said Fred, springing to his feet; and as he spoke we sauntered to the front of the hut, and saw that the stockman was just raising a carbine, which he had taken from a sleeping policeman.
Bimbo looked astonished when he caught sight of us, and I saw by the flashing of his eyes that he was almost determined to begin the battle immediately, and trust to the robbers for the result.
If such was his intention, however, he had no time to carry it into effect, for with a sudden spring Fred landed in front of him, and with a blow of his fist knocked the dirty fellow down, and before he could rise a revolver was pointed at his head, and instant death threatened, if he moved.
The noise awakened Murden and his men; and just as they began inquiring the reason of our violence, there was a loud shout heard within the hut, the door was rudely thrown open, and at the head of the robbers, brandishing his carbine, was Gulpin.
The police fell back a few paces in astonishment; but a rallying cheer from Murden reassured them, and in spite of the known desperate characters of the bushrangers, they charged on them.
Gulpin did not stop to discharge the weapon which he held, but swinging it over his head he brought it down upon the skull of the foremost man, with a crash, shivering the gun into a hundred pieces, and knocking the fellow senseless.
Gulpin did not wait to repeat the blow, but eluding the many hands thrust out to seize him, he sprang one side, and leaving his gang to continue the unequal combat, ran swiftly across the prairie, as though determined to escape at all hazards, even if his gang were captured.
"The villain will escape!" shouted Murden, more anxious to secure the person of Gulpin than his men.
The lieutenant rushed to the shed to mount the horse usually kept in readiness, but Bimbo had turned him loose upon the plain.
With a bitter oath the officer grasped one of his men's carbines and discharged its contents after the runaway. The ball flew wide of its mark, and we could hear a taunting laugh from the fugitive, at his aim.
"Show me a specimen of your American skill," cried Murden, after a hasty glance at his men, and finding that every robber was secured excepting the chief; "cripple that devil for me, and I am your debtor for life."