e hut grew lighter.

"Don't, don't do that, Dal," whispered Abel. "You're right in the line
of fire, too."

As a proof that their position was being made more precarious a couple
more shots were fired, the bullets buzzing across the interior.

"Must," was the reply. "There, the ashes will soon grow faint;" and in
a few minutes the place was nearly black; but at the same time it was
full of strangling wood-smoke which rose slowly towards the opening in
the roof which formed their chimney.

Meanwhile shot after shot was fired through the door, and at every dull
thud or tearing of the stout woodwork, the dog dashed about, snarling
and barking furiously.

"Dal! Dal!" cried Abel passionately; "are we to stop here doing
nothing?"

"Yes; we are not going to shoot at random. Wait a bit, and our time
will come. Have you plenty of cartridges handy?"

"Yes; a pocketful."

"Don't waste them, then. One will be sufficient to silence an enemy.
We must wing him--that will be sufficient. I say!"

"Yes, what?"

"Bob Tregelly would not knock at the door like this, would he?"

"Don't. I made sure it was he."

The firing went on through the door, and in the darkness, which now grew
profound, the besieged made out that the direction of the bullets was
varied, for those which came through struck the wall in different
places--high, low, and to right and left; and the result of this was
that suddenly, in spite of Dallas's endeavours to keep the dog close to
him in shelter, he escaped from him to bound about, barking savagely,
and the next minute, as a couple of shots came through the door, he
uttered a peculiar snarling snap, and threw himself with a heavy thud
against the door.

"He has got it, Bel," whispered Dallas. "Here, Scruff! Scruff!"

The dog came to him, whining, and then uttered a dismal howl.

"Poor old chap! you must lick the place," said Dallas. "I'll see to it
when I can get a light."

"Badly wounded, Dal?" said Abel.

"Can't tell. No; not very bad, or he would have lain still. Has he
come to you?"

"Yes," said Abel, from the other side of the door; "he has shoved his
head against me."

There was a pause then, and an ejaculation full of horror.

"What is it?" anxiously.

"Ugh! The poor fellow's bleeding!"

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

A DEATH SHRIEK.

"Wait a bit--wait a bit!" said Dallas through his teeth; "we'll pay the
cowardly brutes yet. Bel, it makes me feel like a savage. I co