“Grab it! Don’t let it get away!” shouted Miss Briggs.
“What was that?” cried General Gordon, when, during a brief lull in the storm, his ears caught a familiar whistling sound.
“A bullet, sir,” answered Grace promptly. “Watch out for the next gust of wind. It’s going to be a severe one.”
“There they come again!” exclaimed the general, as bullets began spraying the camp.
Grace sprang to the tent occupied by Mrs. Gordon, which Hippy was doing his best to hold down.
“Lie flat on the ground, Mrs. Gordon!” she shouted. “We’re under fire.”
At about the same instant Elfreda Briggs was uttering a similar warning to the girls in her charge.
The gun-fire grew hotter, continued so for a few moments, then suddenly ceased as a fresh blast of storm swept down on the camp from the mountains, and then, despite all their efforts, the tent that Grace and the two men were now holding, gave way under the tremendous power of the wind.
Mrs. Gordon and Miss Cartwright, while thoroughly frightened, were too plucky to make any outcry, and, after a few moments of lively work, the general and Hippy, with some assistance from Grace, succeeded in saving the tent.
About that time the rain dwindled to a sprinkle, and bullets again began to spatter about the camp. Uttering an exclamation, Grace ran for her rifle, which she thrust into Hippy Wingate’s hand.