“Did you see that?” he cried, throwing himself on the ground.
“No. I didn’t see it. I may have sharp eyes, but they aren’t sharp enough to see a bullet on the wing,” retorted Stacy.
“What I cannot understand is, why they are shooting at us,” wondered Elfreda.
“Perhaps they think we have been throwing stones at them,” suggested Emma.
“Rolling stones gather no moss,” interjected Stacy. “Possibly, however, our rolling stones came near gathering in some parties down in the valley, and they are retaliating by shooting at us.”
“Girls! Let’s get out of here,” cried Grace, springing up. “I am weary of hiding.”
“Get down!” shouted several voices.
Grace gave no heed to the command, nor to the bullet that sang over her head, but when one barely grazed her cheek, she decided that she was quite ready to join her companions on the ground again.
“Are we going to lie here all day and let those ruffians shoot at us?” demanded Emma.
“The only other alternative is to crawl away,” answered Tom.