"But it isn't burnt, not yet," Jack told him. "If Lucky got all their guns they can't do much."
"If he only did," Bob repeated.
"What'll we do?" Jack asked turning to the Indian who stood staring at the cabin, his hands on the handles of the sled.
"We go," he said stoically. "Mush," he gave the order in a voice little above a whisper, but the dogs heard it and bounded forward in the traces.
"Have gun all ready," Lucky ordered.
In order to keep in the trail they were obliged to pass within a few feet of the front door of the cabin and, as the two boys, who were walking ahead of the sled, came opposite it, it flew open and the big leader of the gang rushed out. But he was not off the step before both Bob and Jack had him covered.
"Hands up."
The order evidently was no new one to the man for he obeyed without an instant's hesitation.
"You—you—" he started, then stopped as though at a loss for words as he caught sight of the sled and the man seated on it as it passed them.
"Well, what about us?" Bob demanded.