But presently Bill Marston in his turn cried to Charlie to stop, and, putting his finger on his lips, crept once again to the door, whispering as he did so:—
“Seth, you’re right, mate, there’s some mischief up, and we’ve got company on the rock that we don’t know about yet.”
Seth Lawrence was up in a moment like a lion.
“Hold, Bill, a moment,” he cried, “don’t open the door till we’ve put the light out, and we’d best take a six-shooter a-piece, for we don’t quite know how many friends we may have to receive.”
“Ten to one it’s some of those thieving scoundrels from Gunnerstone, come to see if they can catch us asleep in order to play tricks with the lights, but they’ll find we’re up to their little games.”
Seth and Bill hastily pulled on their rough pea-jackets, invested their heads in their sou-westers, and, having looked at their revolvers to see that they were properly loaded, put out the lamp and opened the door. As they did so a dark object slid away from before it and was lost in the gloom.
“That cove’s been listening through the key-hole,” whispered Bill to his companion.
“Well, he didn’t hear much good of himself,” replied Seth; and then he added in a louder tone, “Now then, you skulks, come out and let’s see what you’re made of. I’ve got a nice taste of cold lead for each of you.”
“Two can play at that game, Seth Lawrence,” answered a deep voice from out of the darkness, “look to yourself.”