There was one last great shock, and down went the door before the assault.
"No water yet!" cried Gilson. "Now it is too late!"
He flung down the hose, taking to his heels before the gang of masked men that swarmed into the doorway.
Barney Mulloy heard a hissing noise, and then he leaped forward and caught up the nozzle of the hose. He turned the large stop-cock, and a bar of water shot out, striking the leader of the lynchers in the neck, and hurling him, gasping and stunned, back into the arms of those behind.
"Hurro!" trumpeted the Irish lad, in delight, his blood aroused. "Come on, an' git washed off th' face av th' earth!"
This method of defense proved unpleasantly surprising to the attacking party. The stream of water swept men off their feet and flung them, half-drowned, back from the doorway into the night. In less than half a minute Barney had cleared the doorway.
"Hurro!" he shouted, once more. "This is th' kind av sport! We'll howld th' fort till th' last drop av warther is gone!"
There was a lull, and Hank Kildare came panting to the side of the lad with the hose. When he saw the broken door an exclamation of dismay came from the lips of the sheriff.
"Something wuz ther matter, so I couldn't turn ther water on," he said. "An' now they've got ther door down!"
"But Oi bate 'em off!" shouted the Irish lad, triumphantly.