ured Barr to an enemy, slipping a fresh
cartridge into the Sharps and peering intently at a slight rise on the
muddy plain. "You shoot like yo're drunk," he mumbled.

"But what is it all about, anyhow?" asked Neal, finding time for an
immaterial question. "Who are they?--can't see nothing but blurs through
this rain!"

"Yes; what's the game?" asked Barr, mildly surprised that he had not
thought of it before.

"It's that Oasis gang," Johnny responded. He fired, and growled with
disappointment. "Harlan's at the head of it," he added.

"Edwards--told Harlan to--get out of--town," Jackson began.

"An' to take his gang with him," Johnny interposed quickly to save
Jackson from the strain. "They had till dark. Guess the rest. Oh, you
_coyote_!" he shouted, staggering back. There was a report farther down
the barricade and Neal called out, "I got him, Nelson; he's done. How
are you?"

"Mad! Mad!" yelled Johnny, touching his twice-wounded shoulder and
dancing with rage and pain. "Right in the same place! Oh, wait! _Wait!_
Hey, gimme a rifle--I can't do nothing with a Colt at this range; my
name ain't Hopalong," and he went slamming around the room in hot search
of what he wanted.

"There ain't--no more--Johnny," feebly called Jackson, raising slightly
to ease himself. "You can have--my gun purty--soon. I won't be able--to
use it--much longer."

"Why don't Buck an' Hoppy hurry up!" snarled Johnny.

"Be a long time--mebby," mumbled Jackson, his trembling hands trying
to steady the rifle. "They're all--around us. _Ah_, missed!" he intoned
hoarsely, trying to pump the lever with unobeying hands. "I can't
last--much--" the words ceased abruptly and the clatter of the rifle on
the floor told the story.

Johnny stumbled over to him and dragged him aside, covering the upturned
face with his own sombrero, and picked up the rifle. Rolling a barrel of
flour against the wall below the window he fixed himself as comfortably
as possible and threw a shell into the chamber.

"Now, you coyotes; you pay _me_ for _that_!" he gritted, resting the gun
on the window sill and holding it so he could work it with one hand and
shoulder.

"Wonder how them pups ever pumped up enough courage to cut loose like
this?" queried Neal from behind his flour barrel.

"Whiskey," hazarded Barr. "Harlan must 'a' got 'em drunk. An' that's
three times I've missed that snake. Wish it would stop raining so I
could see better."

"Why don't you wish they'