north door and had been so fortunate as to
shoot Morales himself, now suddenly sprang from his covert and,
placing the muzzle of his Henry rifle close to the door, deliberately
popped three shots in quick succession through the splintering
wood-work, and, in the confusion and dismay which resulted, was able
to leap nimbly into his corner again before the answering shots could
come.

"Take that for your answer," shouted Feeny again, "you black-hearted,
black-bellied thafe, and take this, too, bad scran to ye! Every dollar
of that money's in greenbacks that'll burn as aisy as tissue, and if
you want it, come and get it now. 'Tis you that's got no time to lose.
Come and get it, I say, for be the soul of St. Patrick you'll never
have another chance. Just as sure as ye let that fire reach this ranch
and harm those young leddies,--old Harvey's daughters that never did
ye a harm in the world,--every dollar in the safe goes whack into the
fire, and sorra a shinplaster will you have for all your pains. Ain't
that so, paymasther? Shure the government ought to be mighty glad of
the chance of saving all those promises to pay."

"Bravo, Feeny!" shouted young Harvey from the adjoining room. "We're
not smoked out yet by a good deal," he added in lower tone. "But if
the worst comes to the worst we can make a rush for the barley-stack
in the corral. Lie still, Ruth, little sister; it won't be any time
now before the soldiers will come galloping to us." And, hiding her
terror-stricken face in her sister's breast, the girl obeyed.

Out at the corral gate meantime a vehement council was being held.
Feeny's bold defiance and threat had produced their effect. His voice
had rung out above the roar of the flames, and what Morales could not
hear was promptly reported by those who had crawled up nearer to the
bar and could understand every word. Even hampered by the care of
their helpless women, the defence was undismayed; the little garrison
was fighting with magnificent hope and courage. Beyond the wounding of
one of their number, no impression apparently had been made, whereas
the bandits had a sorry loss to contemplate. Ramon shot dead, Pasqual
crippled, and the two "Gringos," the daring and enterprising leaders
of the attack, painfully wounded, one probably mortally so. And now
with the flames lighting up the whole valley between the Picacho and
the Christobal, with cavalry known to be out in several squads within
easy march, some of th