juring them.

None knew better than Avon Burnet the great danger of this apparently
simple act on the part of his uncle. The chances were so immeasurably in
favor of his discovery that he was certain it would take place. While
the wife and servant held their breath in a torture of suspense, the
youth, with his cocked rifle firmly grasped, stole softly along the side
of the cabin until close to the door. In reaching the spot, he stooped
so as to move beyond the first opening, the proceeding placing him
between the windows, with his left elbow against the heavy door.

In this situation his nerves were at the highest tension. Everything was
in plain sight, but he was listening intently to the movements of his
enemies. He heard the sounds of the mustangs' hoofs, as they circled
swiftly about the cabin, sometimes turning quickly upon themselves, and
at varying distances from the structure. Now and then one or two of the
horsemen would rein up abruptly, as if striving to peer through the
openings, or about to apply for admission.

It may seem incredible, but there is no reason to doubt the fact that,
at the moment Captain Shirril began cautiously reaching upward with his
weapon, the youth heard one of the Comanches slip down from the back of
his mustang and approach the door. His hand moved softly over the rough
surface, as though searching for the latch string, which was generally
hanging out; and, finding it not, he began stealing to the window just
beyond.

This was the very thing Avon dreaded above all others, for it was
inevitable that he should detect the figure of the Texan operating so
guardedly in front of the fire.

Such proved to be the fact. Whether the youth actually observed the
action of the Indian, or whether he fancied he heard him moving along
the side of the house, cannot be said with certainty; but a faint rustle
in front of the shattered glass made known that the dusky miscreant was
there, and had detected the stratagem of the Texan, who at that moment
was in the act of lowering the gun from the deer's prongs over the
mantel.

His uncle was so clearly in his field of vision that, without looking at
him, Avon did not miss the slightest movement, but his whole attention
was fixed on the window, and it was well it was so.

"Look! look! Avon, do you see that?"

It was his aunt who uttered the terrified question with a gasp, as she
pointed at the narrow opening.

The youth had observed the object wh