"We were making for the cave and I lost him in the dark. After that they started firing, and I just fired back, more to keep up my courage than anything."
"But where on earth did you get the revolver? You hadn't one of your own."
"Yes, I had, Jim. I brought it with me, and I didn't say anything because I thought you might laugh or else be angry with me."
"You've certainly shown that you know how to use it," I said dryly.
Something in my voice must have told her what had happened. "What do you mean?" she asked in a frightened tone. "Did I shoot anyone?"
"Yes," I said slowly. "You pinked me. Right in the shoulder. It's only a flesh-wound; nothing to worry about."
"I've hurt you and I didn't mean to," she wailed.
I reached out and seized her by the shoulders. "Look here, Moira," I said with a semblance of sternness in my voice, "you've done a man's work to-night and it's making you hysterical. Don't let it. Pull yourself together, for heaven's sake if not for mine."
I think it was just that last bit that brought her round. "I'm sorry, Jim," she said, though what there was to be sorry about was more than I could say.
"And now, Moira," I ran on before she had time to say anything more, "the sooner we finish that interrupted journey to the cave the better. It's not as good as the hut would be if it was still standing, but it gives us shelter, and that's the main thing. Also we can light a fire and sleep the night in peace, now that the gang seems to have been rubbed out for good."