They had located their quarry, and from eminences that gave them range of the place they opened up now, determined to slay the men who had taken refuge there.
CHAPTER XLV.
THE FLAG OF TRUCE.
Deland and Denton, with their “stool-pigeon” prisoner, were not far away when this battle opened up.
Hatfield was piloting them to that “trap,” where he expected the sharpshooters would slay them. But when he heard the crack of those rifles, he recognized by the reports that they were the guns of some of the men he had thought were in the “trap.” That they were out there, firing, told him that something had gone wrong.
“Hear that?” he said.
“Yes,” said Denton; “what do you make of it?”
“Some kind of a fight, I reckon,” said Hatfield.
“You stay here, while I look into that, will ye?” said Deland. “From the sound of it, I’m jedgin’ that a battle is goin’ on that maybe we’re int’rested in, er might git int’rested in.”
Denton did not like to remain behind. He had no thought, though, that his sweetheart was over there where that shooting was going on, for he did not know where she was, except that he believed she was held by Panther Pete; and Hatfield had been professing to lead them to Panther Pete’s lair.
Hatfield looked uneasily in the direction of the firing. Deland was disappearing in that direction. Denton took out his revolver.