"Don't stir. I'll tell you when it is time to move," warned Tad.
"Men, I've changed my mind," announced the leader. "Are you ready for a fight?"
"Sure we are if it's Rangers you want us to fight," answered a voice.
"Yes, it's the same old crowd, and a bunch of youngsters thrown in. I don't know what the trouble is, but they're racing around out there with torches—-"
"Mebby they've found the trail," suggested one.
"No, I reckon some of the youngsters have strayed away and got lost.
All the better for us. The Rangers won't be looking for us."
"They have left their rifles in the camp. They've got their revolvers with them, of course. Take your rifles. Put out all the lights, then while the watch is being kept we'll step out and give them a volley. Be careful to get to one side of the opening so we don't draw their attention too sharply to the opening. That might leave some marks and lead them to investigate when day comes. We'll be a long way from here by that time, but I hope we'll leave a few dead Rangers behind us."
Dunk Tucker was grinning broadly. This was the opportunity for which he had longed.
"Sneak out quietly. Take a good aim. Give them a rattler of a volley. Every man pick his mark. You can't miss. I'll look for McKay. But don't all aim at the same mark or you won't do much damage."
Tad could not repress a shudder. He realized the desperateness of
Willie Jones' character fully now. A man who could plan such a
cold-blooded crime could have no heart. And the worst of it was that
Tad saw no way to prevent the crime.