Dick leaped to his feet and waved to him.

"Here!" he cried. "This way! here is help! Nay,
run, fellow--run!"

But just then a second arrow struck Selden in the shoul-
der, between the plates of his brigandine, and, piercing
through his jack, brought him, like a stone, to earth.

"O, the poor heart!" cried Matcham, with clasped
hands.

And Dick stood petrified upon the hill, a mark for
archery.

Ten to one he had speedily been shot--for the foresters
were furious with themselves, and taken unawares by
Dick's appearance in the rear of their position--but in-
stantly, out of a quarter of the wood surprisingly near to
the two lads, a stentorian voice arose, the voice of Ellis
Duckworth.

"Hold!" it roared. "Shoot not! Take him alive!
It is young Shelton--Harry's son."

And immediately after a shrill whistle sounded several
times, and was again taken up and repeated farther off.
The whistle, it appeared, was John Amend-All's battle
trumpet, by which he published his directions.

"Ah, foul fortune!" cried Dick. "We are undone.
Swiftly, Jack, come swiftly!"

And the pair turned and ran back through the open
pine clump that covered the summit of the hill.

-72-