The cabin was blazing merrily now and nothing could save it. Suddenly there came a shout from behind the building. Beyond the light of the burning cabin every thing was a black pall, but Bud raced headlong into it, trusting to luck to strike a trail.
As he struck the brush tangle, almost beyond the light from the fire, he looked back and saw several forms running around the cabin. They halted at the Indians, talking loudly, but Bud waited no longer. Gripping his rifle tightly, he started running into the darkness of the trees.
Then he stopped suddenly. From just beyond him came the unmistakable creak and rattle of a wagon, and the sound of a man's voice, talking excitedly.
"Whoa!" The wagon stopped.
"The whole damn thing's on fire!"
"Well, whatcha goin' to do—stop here?"
"Danged right. We don't know who's there."
Came the sound of them getting down from the wagon.
"Goin' to tie the team?"
"Naw, they'll stand. Come on."