From the house came a rapid volley in reply. Whoever was in there
was not going to surrender without a fight. One after another I
plugged away with my shots, now bent on making the most of them.
With the answering shots it made quite a merry little fusillade,
and I was glad enough to have the shelter of the staunch oak which
two or three times was hit squarely at about the level of my
shoulders. I had never before heard the whirr of so many bullets
about me, and I cannot say that I enjoyed it.
But my attack was what Craig wanted. I heard a noise in the front
of the house, as of feet running, and then I knew that in spite of
all he had given me the least dangerous part of the attack.
I plugged away valiantly with what shots I had left, then leaving
just one more in the chamber of each gun, I hurried around in the
shadow, my blood up, to help them.
With the aid of the officer, they had just forced the light door
and Searchlight had been allowed to leap in ahead of them, as I
came up.
"Here," I said to Lockwood, handing him back his gun, "take it,
there is just one shot left."
I, at least, had expected to find one, perhaps two desperate men
waiting for us. Evidently our ruse had worked.
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