road which finally brought the young captain to his senses. At first he did not realize that he was on the move.
"Gilbert!" he called faintly. "Gilbert!"
Nobody answered him, and now he essayed to sit up. He could not budge and consequently began to struggle.
"Be still!" cried one of the Chunchuses, in Chinese.
"Where am I? What are you doing to me?" queried Ben.
For answer he received a good shaking and was then dumped on the ground. His feet were liberated, and the chief of the Chinese brigands ordered him to move along, pointing the end of his sword at the prisoner as he did so.
"Where is my friend?" asked Ben.
"He is dead," said the chief, laconically.
"Dead!" burst out the young captain. His heart seemed to become like a lump of lead. Gilbert, his own true chum, dead! It was too horrible to believe.
"Yes, and you will be unless you walk on," added the chief of the Chunchuses.
There was no help for it, and, bruised and bleeding, the young captain took up the march, with his enemies on all sides of him. The gait was a rapid
