“Those men must be crazy!” cried Jack.
“I believe both of them are as mad as March hares,” returned Captain Putnam.
He tried the door, to find it locked. Putting his shoulder to the barrier he burst it open, and the whole party stormed into the shanty.
“Oh, Captain Putnam!” cried George Strong, joyfully. “I am very glad that you have come.”
“Put down that pistol!” ordered the master of the Hall, sternly, and looking the man named Bart straight in the eyes. “Put it down, I say!”
The man hesitated an instant, and then allowed the weapon to drop at his side.
“I wasn’t going to shoot anybody,” he said, humbly.
“You had better give me the weapon,” went on Captain Putnam, and wrenched it from the man’s grasp.
“Ha! they are attacking us!” shouted the other man. “Bart, we must fight for it!” And with a wild spring he leaped upon Jack, and caught the young major by the throat.
“Le—let up!” gasped Jack, and then he could say no more, for his wind was completely cut off. Then the other man began to fight, so that the captain and the blacksmith had their hands full trying to subdue him.