He had now but a pitiful twenty-eight men left, including old Benson and Joe and Darry. Twenty-eight! What could such a number do against the attack of two or three hundred desperadoes and Indians? The situation was certainly one to make the stoutest heart quail.
"It was too bad you came out here on a vacation," said the captain sadly, to his brother and his cousin. "Perhaps you'll never see home again."
"Oh, Will, do you really think it's so bad?" came from Darry.
"It is hard to tell what I think, Darry. I know we are in a mighty tight box."
"Let us hope for the best," said Joe. "Leeson must be doing something."
"If he wasn't caught and shot down, Joe."
"That is true," and now Joe gave a long sigh that meant a good deal.
"There is but one thing in our favor now, this daylight. But if no relief reaches us by sundown——" The captain did not finish, but shook his head.
A moment later one of the guards called down that he could see some Indians to the northwest of the fort.
A glass was brought into play, and by this a party of seventy-five red men could be made out marching directly for the fort. Behind the red men came a dozen or fifteen whites.