“Heaven bless you,” said the settler. “Had it not been for you we should have been butchered by this time, and Ruth in their power.”
Again and again the blows descended upon the door, but it resisted them stoutly, and at last the savages apparently made up their minds they could not gain an entrance in this way.
Therefore the blows ceased, and for the space of five minutes not a sound came from without.
Mrs. Wilson and Ruth came forward from the spot where they had been anxiously waiting the course of events.
“What means this silence, father?” said the latter, in a low tone. “Do you think they have given it up and gone away?”
“Gi’n it up? No, not by a jug-full,” exclaimed the scout, speaking before the settler could answer. “I tell you they won’t give it up so easily. They’re planning some new sort of deviltry. That’s what they’re up to. I know the varmints pretty well and they won’t leave this spot in a hurry unless we make it too hot to hold ’em, and the chances are that they’ll make it too hot for us. Thar, Ned’s picked off another of ’em, I’ll be bound.”
The report of a rifle rung out above their heads, and hardly had it died away before the voice of Ned was heard summoning the scout to him.
Dick bounded up the ladder, and in a moment was at his side.
“What is it?” he asked, eagerly.
“Look. They’re going to see what fire will do to us.”