n murmured, and held back, as the ammunition kept flying, and they
had to dodge the missiles, some of the younger men catching the potatoes
and throwing them back.

"Stop that, some of ye," cried the bailiff. "Ye're no' playing crecket.
Noo then, forward!"

This time his followers obeyed, and they made a rush, to be received by
a tremendous volley, which produced first blood, Scoodrach having sent a
big Dalmahoy or a Scotch Regent--this is a doubtful point in the
chronicle of the attack and defence of Dunroe--and hit one of the
bailiff's men full in the nose, one of Max's shots taking effect at the
same time in a man's eye, and the first of the wounded staggered back to
the hospital ambulance; in other words, he bolted down the rocks to the
water's edge and began to bathe his face.

Another shout, though, from the bailiff, and the assaulting party
charged home right up to the gateway, and began to thunder and thrust at
the crumbling old gates, which were, however, held fast by the wooden
props and stones.

"We can't get through here," grumbled one man. "Is there no other way?"

"No, not without a latter," said another.

"Then let's fetch a latter."

"No, no; push all together, and down the gates will go. They can't hit
us here."

Squish, splash, wash, came down a perfect torrent of water through the
machicolations, as what Kenneth called "the boiling lead" was brought to
bear through the openings left by the old architect for the defence of
the gate.

"No, no, no; don't rin!" cried the bailiff; "it's only watter."

Plosh!

Half a pailful poured down by Max came full upon the speaker's head, and
he turned and headed the stampede, amidst the roars of laughter of the
defenders.

"Yah! it's a' doon me back--it's a' doon me back," snarled the bailiff,
stamping with fury, as he dashed the water out of his hat, and wrung his
clothes, to the great delight of his men as well.

"Ye shall a' pay for this!" he shouted, as he waved the wet paper he
held. "Ye'll know ye're reseesting the law."

"Come and have another shower-bath!" cried Max.

"Yes, you want it!" roared Kenneth. "Bring some more ammunition. Hi,
Tonal', play up, auld mon!"

"Fecht, laddies, fecht!" shouted back the old piper, as he took the
piece from his lips for a moment.

"Yes, we'll fecht!" cried Kenneth.

"Gin ye come here, ye togs, she'll slit a' yer weams!" yelled Scoodrach
excitedly; and then there was a pause, for the bailiff was