"Now get ready," Davidson ordered. "We must round up this bunch before
any more arrive."

Then from his lips sounded forth a clear peculiar whistle. Almost
immediately wild yells from a score of rangers rent the air, followed
by ringing cheers of defiance. Dazed and startled, a number of rebels
threw aside their blankets, scrambled to their knees, and looked
around. Flazeet and Rauchad were the first to comprehend the
situation. Yelling to their still sleeping comrades, they leaped to
their feet, and were about to seize their muskets, when Davidson
sternly ordered them to desist.

"Hands up," he commanded.

The ringleaders instantly obeyed, for they at once recognised the
King's purveyor, the one man they so greatly feared. But one
dare-devil rebel sprang for his gun a few feet away. He never reached
it, however, for from the border of the forest two muskets spoke, and
he crumpled in his tracks upon the sand. This was sufficient warning
to the rest, and all now awake stood sullenly and silently staring hard
at their captors who had come into full view.

"Get over there, and be quick about it," Davidson ordered, motioning to
the left.

The rebels at once obeyed, and standing huddled together, awaited
further developments. Most of the men had no heart for any opposition,
even if they had the opportunity. They had been promised plenty of
rum, a good time, and no end of fun with the Loyalists. Such a