"Is anything the matter?" asked Miss Cullen.
"I think something's wrong with the engine or the roadbed, Miss Cullen," I said, "and, if you'll excuse me a moment, I'll go forward and see."
I had barely spoken when "bang! bang!" went two shots. That they were both fired from an English "express" my ears told me for no other people in this world make a mountain howitzer and call it a rifle.
Hardly were the two shots fired when "crack! crack! crack! crack!" went some Winchesters.
"Oh! what is it?" cried Miss Cullen.
"I think your wish has been granted," I answered hurriedly. "We are being held up, and Lord Ralles is showing us how to—"
My speech was interrupted. "Bang! bang!" challenged another "express," the shots so close together as to be almost simultaneous. "Crack! crack! crack!" retorted the Winchesters, and from the fact that silence followed I drew a clear inference. I said to myself, "That is an end of poor John Bull."
CHAPTER III
A NIGHT'S WORK ON THE ALKALI PLAINS
I hurried Miss Cullen into the car, and, after bolting the rear door, took down my Winchester from its rack.