“You must make him get along,” said Tom, applying his own stick to the animal’s back. “I don’t want my head cut off, and I don’t want to leave you behind.”
Short as had been the delay, it was of serious consequence, for when Tom looked round he could distinctly see the enemy coming after them. Billy, not being a good rider, cried out that he should be off again, as he had got one of his feet out of the stirrup.
“Never mind; hold on by your hands, and I’ll lead your horse,” cried Tom, seizing the rein. He had no wish to delay the rest of the party, so he did not shout out to them to stop, but he determined to push forward as long as the horses could keep on their legs. Billy in a short time succeeded in getting his foot into the stirrup.
“Now,” said Tom, “if we have to leap, don’t be pulling at the rein, but let your horse have his head, and you stick on like wax.”
In the mean time the rest of the party pushed forward, Gerald was surprised that Tom did not answer a question; he shouted to him, still fancying that he was close behind.
“There’s a light ahead,” he cried out; “it must be on the walls, or else a house in the suburbs.”
“If it was on the walls, it would appear higher,” answered Archie, “What do you think, Tom?” he asked.
No reply came from Tom, and on looking round Roy discovered that both Tom and Billy were nowhere to be seen.
“We must wait for them,” cried Archie; “we cannot leave them behind.”
Before, however, he or his companions could pull up, a loud challenge was heard, and several shots came whizzing past them.