up all his escort?"

"It was, Fan, yes; at least he thought so."

"And now you would desert him, would you?--leave him to be murdered by
these robbers, the worst gang we ever had or heard of. I say you shall
not. I for one will not go into their hands. Ruth cannot go without
me. Stay and fight it out, Ned, or you're not your father's son."

"Fan! Fan! you're a trump! God bless your brave heart!" cried Harvey.
"It seemed cowardly to go, yet the responsibility was more than I
could bear."

"May the saints in heaven smile on your purtty face for all eternity!"
muttered Feeny, in a rapture of delight. "The young leddy is right,
Mr. Harvey; though it wasn't for me to say it. Shure you can't trust
those scoundrels; they'd stab ye in the back, sir, and rob you of your
pretty sisters and drag them away before your dying eyes. That man
Pasqual is a devil, sir, nothing less. Shure we'll fight till rescue
comes, for come it will. I tell you the boys are spurring towards us,
hell to split, from every side now, and we'll whale these scoundrels
yet."

Then from without came the final hail,--

"What answer, Harvey? Now or never."

"Go to hell, you son of an ape and worse than a Greaser!" yelled
Feeny. "If you had a dhrop of Irish blood in your veins ye'd never ask
the question. Now if you think you can take this money, here's your
chance. No Harvey ever went back on his friends."

Even brain-muddled Mullan felt a maudlin impulse to cheer at Feeny's
enthusiastic answer. Even poor old Plummer gave a half-stifled cry.
Possibly he dreamed that rescue was at hand; but there was little time
for rejoicing. Springing back whence he came, the unseen emissary was
heard shouting some order to his fellows. The next instant the rifles
began their cracking on both sides, and the bullets with furious spat
drove deep into the adobe or whizzed through the gunny-sacks into the
barley. The unseen foe was once more investing them on every side and
not a shot could be wasted in return. Once more the furious crackle
and roar of flames was heard close at hand, and then the smoke grew
thicker, the heat increased, and poor Ned Harvey, his eyes smarting,
knelt steadfast at his post and prayed, prayed for the coming of
rescue, for the return of the loved father, all the gallant troop at
his back, and then--even as though in answer to his prayer--there came
a sudden lull in the fight.

"Something's coming!" shouted Feeny, excitedly. "They see or hear