came a sudden yell of warning,
from directly below him a flash, and a bullet grazed his forehead and
shattered the window-pane above him. He was deluged with a shower of
broken glass. Stunned and bleeding, he sprang back.

With a cry of concern, Miss Dale ran toward him.

"It's nothing!" stammered Ford. "It only means I must waste no more
time." He balanced his iron rod as he would a pikestaff, and aimed it at
the upper half of the door to the hall.

"When the next volley comes," he said, "I'll smash the panel."

With the bar raised high, his muscles on a strain, he stood alert
and poised, waiting for a shot from the room below to call forth an
answering volley from the house-tops. But no sound came from below. And
the sharp-shooters, waiting for the madmen to expose themselves, held
their fire.

Ford's muscles relaxed, and he lowered his weapon. He turned his eyes
inquiringly to the girl. "What's THIS mean?" he demanded. Unconsciously
his voice had again dropped to a whisper.

"They're short of ammunition," said the girl, in a tone as low as his
own; "or they are coming HERE."

With a peremptory gesture, Ford waved her toward the room adjoining and
then ran to the window.

The girl was leaning forward with her face close to the door. She held
the finger of one hand to her lips. With the other hand she beckoned.
Ford ran to her side.

"Some one is moving in the hall," she whispered. "Perhaps they are
escaping by the roof? No," she corrected herself. "They seem to be
running down the stairs again. Now they are coming back. Do you hear?"
she asked. "It sounds like some one running up and down the stairs. What
can it mean?"

From the direction of the staircase Ford heard a curious creaking sound
as of many light footsteps. He gave a cry of relief.

"The police!" he shouted jubilantly. "They've entered through the roof,
and they're going to attack in the rear. You're SAFE!" he cried.

He sprang away from the door and, with two swinging blows, smashed the
broad panel. And then, with a cry, he staggered backward. Full in
his face, through the break he had made, swept a hot wave of burning
cinders. Through the broken panel he saw the hall choked with smoke, the
steps of the staircase and the stair-rails wrapped in flame.

"The house is on fire!" he cried. "They've taken to the roof and set
fire to the stairs behind them!" With the full strength of his arms and
shoulders he struck and smashed the iron bar again