The erect figure and outstretched arm arrested Cameron.

A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his memory.
"Let's go nearer," he said, "and quietly." With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence.

At once the speaker who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground.
Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying "Call the Police, Martin!" With a loud cry of "Police! Police! Help here!" Martin sprang into the middle of an excited group of Indians.

Two of them threw themselves upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one hand and with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust.

Swinging his stick around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made Cameron's assailants give back a space and before they could renew the attack Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed by a Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with shouts upon the scene.