you," flung back
the leader.

Now that fellow raised himself, exposing himself more, but getting a
solid left-hand rest for his rifle.

Hal could see and feel that the rifle was pointed fairly at him.

On the instinct of the moment the young sergeant fired. And he would
have scored, had he not seen the other two riflemen leaving their cover
also to get a better aim. That realization spoiled his shot.

"Gracious! That was my last cartridge, too!" groaned the young sergeant
inwardly.

The realization made him feel creepy. It is one thing to fight bravely,
when one has the fighting tools and a knowledge of their use. But it is
quite another thing to face the certainty of being helpless with so many
armed foes bent on one's destruction.

None the less, summoning up all his courage, Hal broke the revolver at
the breech, allowing the ejector to shed the empty shells on the ground
underneath.

With lightning motions Hal went through the sham of filling his cylinder
with fresh cartridges.

"No use, little man! No use at all. If you had any more cartridges you'd
get me now--but you can't. Come on, boys! We'll go under the tree and
smoke him out!"

As he spoke, the leader moved boldly from cover, exposing the whole
length of his body.

It would have made a splendid mark for as expert a shot as Sergeant Hal
Overton. The soldier boy did raise his revolver, as though to shoot, but
the leader, coolly confident, continued to come forward.

Of course Hal could not shoot, and the rest seeing that, also came out
from cover.

Chuckling, all but the one whose jaw Hal had injured, the wretches moved
forward, halting just under the tree.

"Coming down now?" demanded the leader, directing the muzzle of his
stolen rifle up the tree.

"I don't know," mimicked Hal.

"Ever hear what the treed 'coon said to Davy Crockett?" inquired the
scoundrel facetiously.

"If it's a chestnut I'll stand hearing it again," proposed the young
sergeant.

"Well, friend, when the raccoon saw Davy pointing his gun upward, he
called down: 'Don't shoot, Davy! I'll come down.'"

"Great!" mocked young Overton.

"Are you going to do like the 'coon?"

Hal's answer was to raise his right hand suddenly and hurling his now
useless revolver.

There was no time to dodge. One of the riflemen below received the
impact of the descending weapon squarely on top of his head and he
keeled over, falling into a bush.

"You said all you wanted was my revol