"One of them fellers was Red!" announced Bill, who was looking through the glasses. "I'd know that wool hat of his anywhere. There's eight of 'em now, altogether."
"Let me look!" demanded Winchester, and after peering through the port-hole he passed the glasses on to Sharps.
"All Teehannos," he said. "Well, boys, this means business; and we might as well shoot to kill. I'll meet 'em at the door and when they go for their guns—well, you know, don't wait too long."
Sharps grunted and caught up his rifle impatiently. Bill watched them as they rode down the valley; and when they turned off and took the trail to their house he too dropped down by a port-hole. As for Hall, he led Allifair to Old Susie's room and leaned his carbine against the left side of the door. This opened to the right, as most doors do, and there was a boxing that just hid the gun.
"What's the idee?" inquired Winchester, with the old, care-free smile which seemed to come to him in moments of danger; and Hall smiled back, though soberly.
"I'm left-handed," he explained, "that is, with a rifle; with a pistol I use the right hand. Well, they'll be watching my right hand; but I'll reach in with my left and have my carbine before they know it."
"And then?" suggested Winchester, but Hall only shrugged and glanced back significantly at Allifair. Already she had left the room in the rear and was looking on with growing alarm—for the horses were outside the door. There was a rush of hounds, a curse and a yelp, and then a voice hailed the house.
"Well?" inquired Winchester, opening the door about a foot and looking them over coldly, and the leader of the cowboys spoke roughly.
"We're lost," he said, "been riding all night. What's the chances for something to eat?"