and the warm thrill of her arms clinging to him.

A splintering crash sent him reeling back into the centre of the cabin
with Marge in his arms. The crash had come simultaneously with the
report of a rifle, and both saw where the bullet had passed through the
door six inches above David's head, carrying a splinter as large as his
arm with it. He had not thought of the door. It was the cabin's
vulnerable point, and he sprang out of line with it as a second bullet
crashed through and buried itself in the log wall at their backs. Baree
growled. A low rumble rose in Tara's throat, but he did not move.

In each of the four log walls were the open chinks which Marge had told
him about, and he sprang to one of these apertures that was wide enough
to let the barrel of his rifle through and looked in the direction from
which the two shots had come. He was in time to catch a movement among
the rocks on the side of the mountain about two hundred yards away, and
a third shot tore its way through the door, glanced from the steel top
of the stove, and struck like a club two feet over Tara's back. There
were two men up there among the rocks, and their first shots were
followed by a steady bombardment that fairly riddled the door. David
could see their heads and shoulders and the gleam and faint puffs of
their rifles, but he held his fire. Where were the other four, he
wondered? Without doubt Hauck and Brokaw were now armed with the rifles
of the men who had fallen, so he had six to deal with. Cautiously he
thrust the muzzle of his rifle through the crack, and watched his
chance, aiming a foot and a half above the spot where a pair of
shoulders and a head would appear in a moment. His chance came, and he
fired. The head and shoulders disappeared, and exultantly he swung his
rifle a little to the right and sent another shot as the second man
exposed himself. He, too, disappeared, and David's heart was thumping
wildly in the thought that his bullets had reached their marks when both
heads appeared again and a hail of lead spattered against the cabin. The
men among the rocks were no longer aiming at the door, but at the spot
from which he had fired, and a bullet ripped through so close that a
splinter stung his face, and he felt the quick warm flow of blood down
his cheek. When the Girl saw it her face went as white as death.

"I can't get them with this rifle, Marge," he groaned. "It's wild--wild
as a hawk! Good God!..."

A crash of f