Ralph was the most uncomfortable of the party. Not being so familiar with the doings of the moonlighters, nor acquainted with the general feeling of the public against them, the idea of being thus hunted like a criminal was very repugnant to him.
It was as if his companions were engaged in some crime, instead of simply infringing a patent, the legality of which had not been fully tested, and, if he could have had his choice, he would have been miles away from that spot just then.
"There they come!" exclaimed Bob from his post of observation, and, looking out for a moment, Ralph saw six men riding into the clearing directly toward the house.
Almost before he had time to regain his seat, and just as Bob held up his hand as a signal for silence, a knock was heard at the door, as if some one was pounding with the butt-end of a whip.
No one made any reply, and it seemed to Ralph as if he could hear the pulsations of his own heart, so oppressive was the silence.
Again the summons was repeated, and a gruff voice cried:
"Open the door a moment. I wish to speak with Mr. Robert Hubbard."
Then there was a long silence, and, seeing the look of anxiety on Ralph's face, George said, in a low whisper:
"Don't look so distressed, my boy. Those men have got no more right to enter here than you have to go into another man's dwelling. If they should succeed in getting in, however, they would find sufficient to prove that Bob was about to infringe their patent; but, as it is, they have no authority to do anything, although Bob will hardly get a chance to shoot the Hoxie well to-night."
"That's just what I will do," whispered Bob, who had heard George's remark. "I will put in that charge if they camp where they are all night."