A rifle shot rang out from the side of B Street; from the lumber-pile across the street, Bryce and Ogilvy heard a suppressed grunt of pain, and a crash as of a breaking board. Instantly out of the shadows George Sea Otter came padding on velvet feet, rifle in hand—and then Bryce understood.
“All right, boss,” said George simply as he joined Bryce and Ogilvy under the lee of the locomotive. “Now we get busy again.”
“Safe-o, men,” Ogilvy called. “Back to the job.” And while Bryce, followed by the careless George Sea Otter, went into the lumber-yard to succour the enemy, Ogilvy set an example to the men by stepping into the open and starting briskly to work with a shovel.
At the bottom of the pile of lumber the Black Minorca was discovered with a severe flesh-wound in his right hip; also he was suffering from numerous bruises and contusions. George Sea Otter possessed himself of the fallen cholo's rifle, while Bryce picked the wretch up and carried him to his automobile.
“Take the swine over to the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's hospital and tell them to patch him up,” he ordered George Sea Otter. “I'll keep both rifles and the ammunition here for Jules Rondeau and his woods-gang. They'll probably be dropping in on us about two a.m., if I know anything about Colonel Pennington's way of doing things.”
CHAPTER XXXI
Having dispatched the Black Minorca to hold up the work until the arrival of reinforcements, Colonel Pennington fairly burned the streets en route to his home. He realized that there would be no more sleep for him that night, and he was desirous of getting into a heavy ulster before venturing forth again into the night air.
The violent slam with which he closed the front door after him brought Shirley, in dressing-gown and slippers, to the staircase.