There was another roar of laughter at this.
“I warn you once more, my good fellows. This is an outrage you are committing, and if blood is shed the fault will be yours.”
“Those bottles o’ whiskey.”
“You get nothing here. Go!”
“Rush them, lads.”
The miners with their revolvers were about a dozen yards from the corner block-house, and Mr Raydon and the man with him were half-way to the door, their backs towards it, when the bully gave his order.
Like an echo of that order, and just as the men were in motion, came one from Mr Raydon.
“Make ready—present!”
I shrank back startled as I heard the loud military commands, and the effect was the same upon the gang of rough gold-diggers, who stopped short, while half of them turned and began to run.
For, as the order rang out, Grey and another man sprang to the door with presented pieces, and from the openings on the floor above half a dozen more rifles were thrust out.