He held up the stem of his pipe, which he had kept between his teeth during the exciting moments, with such a grim expression of woe that, despite the frightful incident, his wife and even Avon smiled.
“It is a pity indeed,” she said, “you will have to use your new one, and I know how much that will pain you.”
“They shall pay for this,” he added with a shake of his head.
Fortunately the rifles of himself and nephew were leaning in the corner, where they could be readily seized without exposing themselves to another treacherous shot. The men laid hands on them at once.
The weapons were of the repeating kind, and among the best that money could buy in San Antonio.
The two guns belonging to Mrs. Shirril and their servant rested together on the deer’s prongs over the mantel, and, to reach them, one must expose himself to another shot from the outside.
Following the rifle report, the sound of horses’ hoofs were heard galloping rapidly 16 around the cabin. The captain listened intently for a moment, holding one hand aloft as a signal for the others to keep silent.
“There’s fully a dozen of them,” he said a minute later in a low voice.
“But they know you and Avon are here,” added his wife, who was standing motionless just behind him, without any evidence of excitement except that her face was a shade paler than usual.