CHAPTER XXVI.

A LIFE FOR A LIFE.

Little Snap, it is safe to say, was never more thoroughly surprised in his life.

In the brief glance he had obtained of the disappearing mail pouch, he had also seen that it had been snatched from its resting place by a pole, with a hook attached at the end, in the hands of a man concealed behind the bowlder.

Then a movement among the rocks on the side of the mountain told him that the audacious thief was making off with his booty.

Without stopping to count the cost of the hopelessness of pursuit, the postboy rose in his seat to an upright position, when he found he could grasp a clump of stunted bushes growing on the side of the ledge and high enough to enable him to gain the summit of the rock.

The next moment he climbed upward with the agility of a cat, reaching the side of the bowlder in season to see the robber fleeing around another, somewhat higher on the mountainside.

He was armed, but before he could bring his weapon to bear upon the escaping man, the other had disappeared behind another pile of rocks.

Evidently he had not discovered the fact that he was pursued, and being careful only to keep his body from sight of the road, he ascended higher with what celerity he was capable of exercising.

Little Snap followed with swifter and lighter steps, carrying in his right hand his heavy revolver for instant use. Confident that there had been but one doing the robbery, he advanced with the firm determination to have that mail pouch back in his possession, unless the fugitive was smarter than he.

Up, up, climbed the robber, watching the road intently, and stopping every few steps to see why he had not aroused some outcry by his bold theft. Evidently he was bothered to understand what the silence meant, for he soon crept behind a sheltering bowlder, where he crouched in waiting for several minutes, peering cautiously out from his retreat.

During this time Little Snap lay flat on one of the jagged shelves of rock jutting out on the mountain, his body concealed by a bunch of bushes.

The other was out of his sight, but knowing his position, the postboy held his weapon in readiness to cover him the moment he should move. He felt certain he had an advantage over his enemy which would result in his success.

In a short time he heard the man again moving, though his body was hidden from him by the rock. Knowing it would not do for him to allow the other to get too much the start of him, the postboy once more moved cautiously forward.

Around the rocky point concealing his foe from him he darted, to come suddenly into full view of the man, whom he quickly recognized as Robin Burrnock.

The outlaw saw him at the same moment, and with a fierce imprecation he whipped out a pistol and aimed point-blank at the postboy's head.

Fortunately the weapon missed fire, and before he could repeat his attempt, Little Snap leveled his revolver at Burrnock's heart, crying:

"Stand where you are or I will fire!"

With a hoarse laugh, the outlaw, unheeding the threat, leaped forward upon a wider shelf of rock.

Though not wishing to kill him, the postboy fired at the man's lower limbs, hoping thus to stop his escape. But he missed his mark, and as he cocked the weapon for a second shot, Burrnock hurled his own useless weapon with such unerring precision at him that he dashed the revolver from Little Snap's clutch.

"Come on ef ye want me!" cried the outlaw, and vexed at his blundering work, the postboy sprang nimbly up to the ledge beside the robber, taking him so much by surprise that he was forced to drop the mail pouch and defend himself against the attack of the plucky boy.

Little Snap had thought to seize the sack and spring down upon the lower rim of ledge out of the outlaw's reach before he could stop him. But Robin Burrnock proved himself almost as nimble as his young assailant, so the postboy found himself caught in the man's strong arms, when the twain became locked in a hand-to-hand struggle for life or death.

"The old Nick take ye!" howled the desperado of Blazed Acre, "I'll show ye yer match wunst."

The shelf was not more than four feet in width and six in length, while the descent was nearly perpendicular to the road a hundred feet below, so the combatants had small chance for operation, but each did his best, knowing it was a fight to the bitter end.

Little Snap particularly realized that it was life or death with him, and though smaller and weaker than his antagonist, he made such a desperate resistance that the outlaw found himself for once matched.

To and fro, back and forth the two struggled, first one reeling back against the steep side of the mountain and then the other, each in turn recovering himself, to renew the contest with more earnestness than before.

Burrnock had succeeded in getting in a vise-like grip upon Little Snap's throat, and our hero tried in vain to break from it.

"Now, my leetle bantam, I'll see who is master!"

With all the power he could muster, the postboy caught upon the wrist of Burrnock's uplifted arm with his right hand, while with the other he tried in vain to tear away the clutch at his throat.