"Oh!" she gasped in a tremor "I saw that Indian just now."
"Where?"
"Here, right beside me."
"Did you see him, Pat?" asked Waring, grasping his rifle, and peering round in the darkness.
"No, but I heard the hay——"
"There! there he is again!" she interrupted, pointing in front of them.
Waring caught a glimpse of a dark form, and ere he could precisely locate it, he saw Pal Mulroony bound forward like a ball, and the next instant the two were grappled together in a hand-to-hand struggle.
The impetuous onslaught of the Irishman was irresistible, and he bore his opponent to the ground, and seated himself astride of him. Whipping out his knife, he fairly shrieked:
"Say yer prayers quick, for you've got only a second and a half to say 'em in!"
"If you've no objection, I should like to know why ye can't give a little longer time?" asked the familiar, whining voice of Hezekiah Smith!