"What, old boy," said Wade, "some more trouble in the air? Well, just be patient until I can lock this door and get my good weapons, and we shall see what it's all about."
So speaking to the dog, Wade locked the barn, hurried into the house and, taking his two pistols and rifle, started cautiously up the lane toward Judson's cabin. Night had fallen and the moon was just peeping up over the hills, sending forth a dim dusty light, while the sky was canopied with a very thin white cloud and the stars gave forth no light at all. Wade made his way as noiselessly as possible, followed by Rover. Looking in the direction of Judson's, he saw a streak of light made from the flash of a rifle shot, followed by a faint report, which meant a bullet to where he knew not. He knew that the long looked for trouble was on in real earnest, therefore hastened his pace. The firing from many rifles became more general. He had got close enough to see that there were more than a half dozen combatants firing on Judson's cabin from toward the hill. Judson and his son Tom were returning the fire at intervals in an effort to repulse the attack, and had been successful in holding off a rush. From his position Wade could have taken off two of the opponents before they discovered him, but the flashing fire of his rifle, however, would have disclosed his hiding place.
He thought for a moment, raised his rifle to his shoulder and took deliberate aim at a foe sitting on the back of his horse. No, that would be murder straight out. God forbid! Still, the impulse to fire clung to him, but he could not seem to pull the trigger. The firing between the combatants now became more furious, and suddenly he heard someone in the house cry out with pain. Again he took aim at the man nearest him, fully intending to put out the light of life. His finger touched the trigger and in another moment one would have been slain, when a hand was laid gently upon his shoulder. It was so sudden, however, in that terrible moment, that fright ran through him and he accidentally pulled the trigger of his rifle, but the ball went high into the air. He was hastily pulled into the cover of the barn.
The effects of his shot worked terror to the hearts of the attacking party, however, who thought they were being surrounded on all sides by unknown foes, therefore took time by the forelock and fled in great confusion toward the hills. But look! one horse bounded off riderless. Could it be possible that one was in hiding near, and intended doing a bit of guerrilla fighting?
Wade stood like one transfixed to the spot, looking after the fleeing horses of the enemy, not once turning to see who touched him, until the last fleeing form had passed from view and the firing had ceased altogether; then he turned and stood face to face with Nora Judson. A flush, unseen through the darkness, covered his hitherto pale face. For one brief moment they stood facing each other.
"How came you here?" he asked.
"Our mutual friend told me that you was about to fall into an error." She looked toward Rover, who stood at one side wagging his tail. "Jack," she said, tenderly yet sorrowfully, "you were about to commit murder."
"I might have killed one of those fellows, but I cannot see that it would have been murder in a real sense; we are enemies, and this has been a small war."
"But you were about to take the life of someone in a manner that I would not call bravery. You were not in front of the battle as an open enemy. The fellow you would have killed knew nothing of your presence here, and that would have been cold-blooded murder."
"What is the difference in this country, where all is murder?"