“If I could only get a line on where they are,” muttered the sheriff, “I’d be all right, but I can’t see a thing in these bushes.”
All at once the firing from the top of the hill ceased.
“I guess they’re out of ammunition,” said Jerry. “They didn’t have very much when I came away.”
“Then it’s time we did somethin’,” remarked the sheriff. “There, I see ’em now. Come on, boys!”
The two deputies followed him on the run, and Jerry kept as close as he could.
Suddenly the sheriff came to a halt. He motioned with his hand for the others to keep quiet. Then the officer began creeping at a slow pace. He halted once more and waved to the others to approach. They did so with all the caution possible.
“We’ve got ’em!” exclaimed the sheriff. “Pud Stoneham and the rest of ’em are down in a little hollow just below us. They are gettin’ ready to make a rush, I think.”
Peering over the edge of a little bluff on which the sheriff’s party stood, Jerry looked down and saw the gambler, Bill Berry and Jack Pender, each with a revolver, crouching down and peering forward. They were within a few hundred feet of the shaft, and Jerry could dimly observe Nestor and his friends grouped about the mine.
They seemed to be making a last stand. The truth of the matter was that, as Jerry had surmised, they were out of ammunition and could no longer reply to the fusillade that Stoneham and his crowd kept up. For a time there was a lull in the firing.
Then the shots began again, coming from Stoneham, Berry and Pender. But they did not seem to be aiming to kill or even wound those guarding the mine. Desperate as the gambler was, and great as was his wish to get the gold claim, he would not resort to extreme measures. So he and the others were firing over the heads of those they were attacking. They hoped to scare them away.