"Oh, but you are obstinate!" Margaret exclaimed and used Stannard's argument. "It looks as if one of your party meant to shoot Douglas and the police have not caught the man. They must catch somebody and they'll try to fix the shooting on you. To join the chain-gang would be horrible."
"The thing has not much charm," Jimmy agreed and was rather surprised by his coolness, but he was cool. "I don't know much about the police code, but I rather think they'd stop at——"
He heard a noise and Margaret turned.
"I put up the rails," she said in a sharp voice.
Jimmy went to the window and saw a mounted policeman pull down the slip-rails at the fence and ride through the gap. Then he heard a quick step and looked round. Margaret had got his rifle. The butt was at her shoulder and the barrel rested against the doorpost. Jimmy saw her face in profile; her mouth was set tight, her glance was fixed and hard. He jumped for the door, but struck a chair and the collision stopped him. The rifle jerked and a little smoke floated about the girl.
When Jimmy reached the door he saw the policeman's horse stumble. The trooper leaned back, tried to pull his foot from the stirrup, and fell with the animal. Jimmy thought it rolled on him, but after a few moments he crawled away from its hoofs. The horse was quiet and the man got up. His movements were awkward and he looked dully at the house.
Margaret pushed Jimmy back and put the rifle to her shoulder. A sharp report rolled across the clearing, twigs fell from a quivering pine branch, and the trooper vanished in the woods. Jimmy's hands shook, but his relief was keen.
"I expect his rifle's in the bucket under the horse and the horse is dead," Margaret remarked. "I was forced to shoot."
"Ah!" said Jimmy hoarsely. "I thought you had hit the man!"
Margaret's pose was stiff, as if she braced herself, but she smiled.