A moment he stared out,
without speaking, the only noise the movement of men beyond the log
walls, and the occasional sound of a voice in Spanish.
"I can count about a dozen out there," he said finally, his words
barely audible, and his eye still at the slight opening. "All Mexican
except two--they look American. Most of them are armed. You must have
pricked Mendez, for he has one arm in a sling, and the cloth shows
bloody. Ah! Wait! The fellows have searched the cells and discovered
Cateras. Do you hear that yell? It will be a fight to a finish now.
Here come two men with a log--that's their game then; they mean to
smash in the door."
He straightened up, casting a swift glance about the apartment. All
hesitancy, doubt, had left him, now that the supreme test had come. He
was again capable of thinking clearly, and acting.
"Miss Donovan," he burst out, "we can never hope to hold back those men
here--in this room. There must be fifteen of them, and our ammunition
is scanty. We shall be in bright light as soon as the door is battered
down, and then, if they crush in the window also, we shall surely be
attacked from two sides.
Pages:
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351