et away, were four
men, all well known to me as members of the gang, and all in the most
advanced stages of intoxication. On the step of a neighboring cabin sat
the murderer, Ford, hugging in a maudlin way a big black bottle.

On the ground, in the dirt, there rolled two young men, the Englishman
underneath, and Big Bub over him. Sim, the leader, had aimed four stones
at my window, but missed it, and felt the need of more stimulant, so he
took the bottle from Ford, carried it to the lumber pile, a few feet
away, sat down, put it to his lips and drank heavily. Again and again he
tipped up the bottle while he drank, but finally threw it away empty.
Then, with much exertion, he stooped to pick up a stone.

He was aiming at my window. I dodged into a corner, but the box
washstand stood partly in my way. Would he hit his mark? I did not
believe it. He was too drunk. Crack! came the stone against the house.

I waited. Another followed. In the meantime the other men had paid no
attention to him, as Ford was watching the two tumblers, the lumber
pile being between them and Sim; and the three started for the front
door around the south side of the house. Sim followed them. I now hoped
he would forget his stone throwing. When they were all out of sight I
breathed more freely. Surely now the trouble was over, I thought, and I
threw off my fur coat which I had hastily pulled on over my wrapper,
crept into bed and covered my head with the blankets.

I now thought quickly. Even if Sim should forget to throw more stones,
would he not soon come upstairs and perhaps give me more trouble? Would
it not be better to dress myself and be prepared for any emergency? I
was hurriedly deliberating upon the matter--my head still covered with
the blankets--when there was a loud crash and shivered glass covered the
floor and the bed clothes. Instantly throwing the latter back, I looked
around me. I could see no stone, and I had heard none fall upon the
floor, but it must be there somewhere.

I now stepped carefully out of bed, in order to avoid the glass, my feet
being already in knit, wool slippers, with thick, warm soles--and again
looked out.

There was no one to be seen. Sim had done his dastardly work, and gone
indoors. Would this end it? My teeth shattered, and I felt cold. I must
keep my nerve, however, and I did so, dressing myself carefully even to
my stout shoes which I laced up in front and tied. Then I drew on my
fur coat and sat