"Hush!" murmured the desperado, and ran his hand down the mare's nose. But this made her skittish, and she stamped sharply half a dozen times.
"What's up thar?" came in Hank Leeson's voice, and the trapper was wide awake on the instant. "Whoa, Nancy, whoa!"
"Hang the luck!" muttered Gilroy, and ran outside after Fetter and Potts. "He must have been on the watch."
"We must get out!" responded Fetter. "He's a sure-shot, remember. Nothing but the darkness can save us."
"I'm going!" came from Potts, and he leaped on the back of one of the horses—that which Joe had been riding.
"I'm with you," said Fetter, and mounted old Benson's steed. "Come, Matt, and be quick about it."
By this time Hank Leeson was running around the corner of the cabin, gun in hand. His call had aroused Joe and Darry, and they were pulling on their clothing with all speed.
"Something is wrong!" exclaimed Joe.
"It must be those desperadoes," responded his cousin.
The boys were not yet dressed, when they heard a clatter of hoofs and a shot, followed by another.
