"I thought--What was that?" she exclaimed.
They all listened. Far off a shot could be heard--then another. But it must
have been miles away.
"Red" sprang up. "Rangers!" he cried. "They're shooting!"
"Where are they?" Hardy asked.
"In the arroyo," "Red" replied. He was at the window, looking out. "You'll
see 'em in a minute."
The sound of shots came nearer. It was as though a miniature army were
storming the section near the adobe.
Uncle Henry, sitting in the alcove, was terrified. "What's that?" came his
piercing voice.
"They see him!" cried "Red."
"Do you think they can hit him?" Angela cried.
"Red" was certain they could not. "There ain't a chance, at that range," he
said.
But Uncle Henry was not so sure. "Mebbe they might, by accident."
"Red" turned. "Accidents don't happen in Arizona--leastwise not with guns."
The horses' hoof beats came nearer. Yet in all the excitement, Lucia did
not move. She was keeping her silent place by the body of Morgan Pell. She
did not even raise her head.
"Here they come!" cried Angela, leaning out the doorway.
"Red" had gone out of the room; but he came back now. "Better get inside,"
he warned them all, definite fear in his voice.
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