Jet said to himself:

"The men from Albany are taking a hand in the row, probably firing from
the windows. If they could wipe the whole gang out there wouldn't be
any need for me to try to strike a telegraph office."

He could not afford to await the result of the contest, however, for if
his friends were worsted just so much valuable time would be lost, and
he pressed on at full speed until, when he was near the spot where he
began his first journey, there was a rustling of the foliage in front
of him as a voice cried:

"Hold up or I'll fire!"

That this threat was made by one of the gang from whom he was trying to
escape there could be no question, and Jet darted aside quickly as he
cocked his revolver.

This had hardly been done when he saw a long tongue of flame leap out
of the bushes at the right, not more than ten feet away, and a bullet
whistled so near his ear that he could hear it shrieking like a minnie
ball.

If he could wound one of these fellows matters would be just so much
better for his friends, and jumping behind the trunk of a tree he fired
every chamber of his revolver as rapidly as possible.

Not until the weapon was emptied did he start on his course again,
shoving cartridges in the chambers as he ran, and followed by a volley
of shots.

It was evident he had not done any damage, and once more he wheeled and
fired.

There was no reply to this last fusillade, and he continued the flight,
straining every muscle to outdistance the enemy in case an attempt
should be made to follow him.

At the expiration of ten minutes he was forced to halt in order to
regain his breath, and while standing panting and blowing behind a tree
he listened for some token of the enemy.

Not a sound, save those made by himself, broke the silence of the
forest, and there was every reason to believe he had for the second
time given the fellows the slip.

But what about Harvey?

In fancy he saw him lying dead or dying within the shelter of the
bushes, while the gang were making a desperate attack upon the house,
and this thought nerved him to continue the flight before he had fairly
recovered his wind.

The journey was a succession of brief halts and mad races, for every
moment might be precious now, and he took no heed of fatigue, save when
exhausted nature literally forced him so to do.

In less than half the time it had cost him to traverse the same
distance when no one but himself was in danger, he accom