“No twenty men that ever lived can cross them wagon poles unless we are willing they should.”
“But why should they attempt that when they can keep us here on a strain until our powder and lead is exhausted, or the need of water forces us to abandon the hill?”
“I reckon that'll be their game; but see here, by the time our guns are silent we may have them pretty considerably crippled up. I needn't tell you that twenty men in the open against six with good cover like we got, have their work ahead of them.”
“Look!” cried Stephen, pointing.
On the edge of the cottonwoods which they had just reached, the horsemen were joined by a much larger party which suddenly rode out of the timber.
“We reckoned 'em too quick and too few,” said Rogers simply. “There's forty or fifty of the varments.”
The horsemen were now galloping toward the hill. Rogers watched them in silence, then turned again to Stephen.
“Good God! Mr. Landray, don't you see no difference?” the Californian demanded almost angrily. Stephen's lack of all suspicion was too much for him.
“There is a difference in dress, if that is what you mean.”
“Yes, that; and do you note the size of their horses?”