A second report came, and John felt a rush of air past his face.
"Gallop, boys, gallop!" exclaimed Wharton. "Somebody has ambushed us, Uhlans, I suppose, and we've got to run!"
"They must be in the fields!" said Carstairs, as the three urged their horses at once to their utmost speed. Luckily, they had been coming at a slow pace and their mounts were strong.
John thought rapidly. The modern high-powered rifle carried far, and he judged by the faintness of the reports that the bullets had been fired from a point several hundred yards away. They had done under impulse the very thing they ought to do, and their present speed would soon leave the raiders behind.
The three rode neck and neck and as they galloped on two more bullets whistled near them.
"An ambush," said Carstairs coolly, "but we've rushed through it."
"Anyway, our luck is better than Weber's," said Wharton. "He was pinked in the arm and we're unhurt. At least I think so. How are you, Scott?"
"Well but scared."
"I believe the first statement, but not the second And you Carstairs."
"Well but annoyed."