He had to stop to regain breath before he could gasp out an account of what had happened.
"The diamonds!" Maurice exclaimed.
"But, don't you see, this makes it certain that Horace never left that cabin alive!" Fred said heavily.
It looked like it, indeed, and no one found anything to say. Macgregor's face had grown very grim.
"Anyhow, Horace risked his life for those stones,—perhaps lost it,—and we 're not going to let those wretches carry them off," he said. "Besides, the diamonds are the least important thing. Those fellows have got our cabin, grub, ammunition, everything. We're stranded if we don't get them back."
"We must take them by surprise," said Fred. "I'd been thinking that we might come up to the cabin quietly, throw the door open suddenly, and hold them up."
"They have four rifles," suggested Maurice.
"Yes, but they won't be ready to use them," said the Scotchman. "It's the only way."
He threw open the chamber of his rifle, glanced in, then fumbled in his pockets.
"Lend me a couple of cartridges, Maurice."