AC dBooks

Young Pete rested his carbine on the
window-sill and centered on the bulk. He fired and thought he saw a
horse rear. Again he fired. This was much easier than shooting deer.
He beard a cry and the drumming of hoofs. Something crashed against
the door. Pete whirled and fired point-blank. Before he knew what had
happened men were in the cabin. Some one struck a match. Young Pete
cowered in a corner, all the fight oozing out of him as the lamp was
lighted and he saw several men masked with bandannas. "The old man's
done for," said one of them, stooping to look at Annersley. Another
picked up the two empty shells from Annersley's rifle. "Where's the
kid?" asked another. "Here, in the corner," said a cowboy. "Must 'a'
been him that got Wright and Bradley. The old man only cut loose
twict--afore the kid come. Look at this!" And dragging Young Pete to
his feet, the cowboy took the carbine from him and pointed to the three
thirty-thirty shells on the cabin floor.
The men were silent. Presently one of them laughed. Despite Pete's
terror, he recognized that laugh.


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