very reason give way. He would
come, of course, but would he be in time?

All at once the hammering strokes ceased and the rattle of rifle fire
died out in a desultory spatter as stray bullets impinged against the
stout adobe wall.

Jim Baggott from his perch upon a heap of chairs before the window
called out in amazement:

"They've drawn back clear across the road! Reckon they've given it up
as a bad job at last! The dawn's almost here."

"Don't fool yourself!" A burly gang foreman rested his rifle against
the wall and seized avidly upon the dipper of water held out to him by
one of the women. "Thanks, ma'am.--Maybe they're just taking a
breathing spell, but it's my opinion they're planning some new
devilment. Alvarez knows that once that door's down----"

He glanced toward the woman and the sentence ended in a shrug.

"What's the matter with Geoff?" Baggott for the first time had noted
the inert form stretched upon the couch.

"Dad's hit," Billie responded simply.

"Is he bad?" The foreman's tone was hushed.

"I'm afraid so. He's dreadfully cold; he's--he's bleeding internally,
I think. Perhaps, if a surgeon comes in time----"

"A what?" Baggott exploded. "Gosh almighty, where's a surgeon coming
from?"

"From the barracks," explained Billie, naively. "Mr. Thode's gone for
the troops."

"When? How? What do you think of that young---- Hurrah!"

The eager questions from a dozen throats ended in a husky cheer, but it
died as swiftly as it was born. From across the road a huge dark blur
had detached itself and was moving forward stealthily to the attack.
The fusillade of shots recommenced, but a groan had started and spread
among the watchers at the windows.

"What is it?" Billie's tone was still steady, but a chill had crept
into her veins.

"They've got a new battering-ram; looks like a telegraph pole! No door
could hold against it," Baggott muttered. "It's all up with us now!"

The rifles popped valiantly, but a thunderous impact fairly rocked the
house, and, fascinated, Billie watched the door bulge toward her, then
spring back into place as the topmost bolt snapped like a knife-blade.
One more onslaught, perhaps two----

Billie's hand closed on her revolver and she moved instinctively closer
to her father's couch. Then all at once she threw up her head, and her
voice rang out.

"Hark! What is that? Don't you hear it?"

None heeded as she stood with every muscle and nerve