Both were comical mokes and were continually playing roots upon each other. Barney had just worked a gag upon Pomp when suddenly the distant crack of a pistol was heard.
Instantly every man in the camp was upon his feet.
The most intense of excitement reigned. All was confusion.
Then one of the guards came rushing in.
“There’s a hull lot of Apaches down yonder,” he cried, “ther grass is full of ‘em and I reckon they’ve surrounded the camp.”
“Steady all!” thundered Harmon, the Vigilant leader. “Who fired that pistol shot?”
“I don’t know,” replied the guard.
“Is anybody outside the line?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”