Instantly there was a sharp report, and a
speeding bullet grazed his hair, flattening out against the stone. The
rapidity with which he ducked caused the marshal to laugh.
"Not hurt, are you? No. That was a rifle; Mike isn't such a bad shot
with that weapon. He's over there behind that tree--see the smoke? If
the cuss pokes his head out, I'll try the virtue of this .45; it ought
to carry that far. Hah! there he is; I made the bark fly anyway."
CHAPTER XXIII: THE ESCAPE
The afternoon wore away slowly, the two men realising more and more
clearly the nature of the siege. Their only safety lay in the
protection of the rocks, as they were now entirely surrounded, and
fired upon from either bank the moment either raised a head. No
attempt was made, however, to assault their position, nor did they
often return the fire, desiring to preserve for future use their small
supply of ammunition. Brennan remained watchful, but silent, brooding
over his plans for the night, but Westcott became overpowered by
fatigue and slept quietly for several hours.
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