Windows were raised, streaks of fire blazed forth. Most of these snipers fired across the road, going on the theory that whoever stood outside of the town and fired at anybody or anything in it must be enemies, therefore to be repulsed and overwhelmed.
In this way Bonita was pretty generally involved in the affray inside of two minutes after its beginning. Bullets slapped the dust in the road, plugged through the canvas cover of the wagon, rattled in the woodwork of the wheels.
Men were seen coming out of the darkened dance hall. Barrett gathered from this that the lights had been put out for no other reason than to allow them to slip out in comparative safety. He turned his attention to these reenforcements, which began to cut loose at the wagon from the corner of the house they had left.
"They're comin'!" Dan announced from his station at the rear of the wagon.
Barrett turned, to see a band of men come charging up the road, yelling as they broke from the shadow of the saloon into the moonlight. They were shooting wildly, as most of the old school cowpunchers shot when out of the saddle hobbling along on high-heeled boots. The unseen auxiliaries brisked up their assault from windows and side doors, and Barrett, calling Dan and Grubb to his side, suggested that they hold fire until the rush came within good shotgun range.
Fred either misunderstood the suggestion or was unable to contain himself in face of this defiant charge. He jumped from behind the wagon, ran a rod or two down the road to meet the oncoming whooping, shoot-
