Frank nodded and started to follow. Then he spun around, ran again to his former vantage point, and sent a couple of bullets towards the figures in the sand.
“That’ll hold ’em there for a minute,” he said.
As he ran after Tom Barnum to the other corner of the station on the side which sheltered them, he refilled the emptied chambers of the precious weapon.
“There,” said Tom Barnum, crouching low, and pointing.
Frank tried to follow directions but saw nothing. He pressed the revolver into Tom’s hand. 155
“Don’t waste time trying to show me,” he said. “If you see anybody, shoot.”
Tom took the weapon, glanced along the barrel, and pressed the trigger. A yell of pain was the response. Twenty yards away there was a crash in the bushes, then silence.
“Back to the other corner,” said Tom, chuckling, and dashed again to the post from which Frank originally had fired.
Frank sat down, with his back against the wall of the station and laughed hysterically.
“Golly, but this is a game of hide and seek, all right,” he gasped.