That soft glow against the distant
timber was real enough, however! There was no mistaking that! The log
stable was on fire!
The horse fought the bit as Young Pete reined him into the timber.
Pete could see no men against the glow of the burning building, but he
knew that they were there somewhere, bushed in the brush and waiting.
Within a few hundred yards of the cabin he was startled by the flat
crack of a rifle. He felt frightened and the blood sang in his ears.
But he could not turn back now! His pop might be besieged in the
cabin, alone and fighting a cowardly bunch of cow-punchers who dare not
face him in the open day. But what if his pop were not there? The
thought struck him cold. What would he do if he made a run for the
cabin and found it locked and no one there? All at once Pete realized
that it was _his_ home and _his_ stock and hay that were in danger.
Was he not a partner in pop's homestead? Then a thin red flash from
the cabin window told him that Annersley was there. Following the
flash came the rip and roar of the old rifle. Concealed in the timber,
Pete could see the flames licking up the stable.
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