CHAPTER XIII
THE PRISONERS OF THE BUNK-HOUSE
That one yell was immediately followed by others from inside the cabin. Then came a tremendous thumping on the door, accompanied by more outcries.
The cowboys without, not being able to hold themselves in check any longer, started to shoot; and the rattle of firearms was the first sign that told the prisoners of the bunk-house something of the truth.
Colonel Haywood knew that he was dealing with desperate men. He realized that nothing must be neglected in the effort to hold them prisoners, until the cattle had been driven out of the mountains, and within the zone of safety.
Upon the door of the cabin he pounded with the butt end of a revolver.
“Mendoza!” he called, in a tone of authority.
The clamor both within and without ceased as if by magic. The rustlers were consumed with a burning desire to know what it all meant. On the other hand, Scotty and the rest of the punchers
knew that their employer wished to give the leader of the rustlers warning.
“Who calls me?” came from within; and Bob knew that it was the chief rustler who spoke, although bitter anger filled his voice.
“This is Colonel Haywood, Mendoza; you know me!” continued the stockman.