“They’re hunting for a log with which to batter in the door, I reckon,” Bob whispered.
“Can they do it?” Rex asked.
“Well, it’s a pretty strong door, but with a heavy log, I suppose they can knock it from the hinges give them time enough,” Bob answered.
“Which we won’t,” Jack said.
“Well, you’d better make up your mind just how you’re going to stop them, for here they come,” Rex cried a few minutes later.
CHAPTER XII.
BESIEGED.
Bob jumped to Rex’s side and looked out the little window just in time to see the three men running toward the cabin with a log nearly ten feet long, and as big around as his leg.
“Get out your guns and be ready to cover them if she gives way,” he cried, in a low but distinct voice.
He had hardly finished speaking when the end of the log propelled by the great strength of the three men smashed against the door with a bang, which seemed to fairly shake the cabin. An ordinary door would have been shivered to pieces by the blow, but up in the Maine woods they make things to hold, and the only effect, so far as they could see, was a slight loosening of one of the hinges.
“About three more of them will knock out the hinges,” Bob declared, as he saw the men stepping back for a second rush.