CHAPTER XXVIII
THE TRAP CLOSES
THE lieutenant's fingers gripped my shoulder.
"By the Lord Harry, the fellows make noise enough for an army," he whispered. "I reckon they are all there."
"No doubt of it—how is your ammunition?"
"Sixty rounds to a man," he chuckled. "It will cost them something to get through these log walls. Still, we haven't much chance in the end," he added thoughtfully, "for they're bound to get us. Generally I pray for a fight, but now I hope those Yanks will be kind enough to ride by."
"And so do I," I answered soberly, feeling the quick pressure of Noreen's fingers. "There they come, Harwood—see! two horsemen ahead."
They were merely black shadows outlined against the white road, but as they drew somewhat closer the moonlight gave them substance, revealing dimly the shape and clothing of each. One was slender, sitting straight in the saddle, to all appearance a cavalryman; but the other slouched awkwardly over his pommel, a larger, more shapeless figure, the bar-
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