"Do you think they can hit him?" Angela cried.
"Red" was certain they could not. "There ain't a chance, at that range," he said.
But Uncle Henry was not so sure. "Mebbe they might, by accident."
"Red" turned. "Accidents don't happen in Arizona—leastwise not with guns."
The horses' hoof beats came nearer. Yet in all the excitement, Lucia did not move. She was keeping her silent place by the body of Morgan Pell. She did not even raise her head.
"Here they come!" cried Angela, leaning out the doorway.
"Red" had gone out of the room; but he came back now. "Better get inside," he warned them all, definite fear in his voice. "We're in range. It's pretty dangerous. As I said, accidents don't happen down in this country."
"But I want to see!" cried Angela, dancing with excitement now.
"Red" was distracted. "Please come in, Angela," he begged. More shots were heard. He was frightened for everyone. He had lived too long down here not to know the meaning of such desperate shooting. "What the h——" Two bullets came through the window, and smashed a little mirror that hung on the wall near the staircase. The bits of glass fell to the floor with a loud crash.