k from his belt, feeling
that they were about to charge the rear of the flying enemy.

"Come on," shouted Dummy, for the third time, and they crossed the
narrow space, which brought them to the little tower and gateway by the
natural bridge, where, as Mark closed up, he could hear the babble and
growl of voices from the bottom of the first slope.

"Shied it too soon," growled the boy. "I don't believe it's killed
one."

"They're coming back, Dummy," cried Mark, "and the gate's broken away
from the hinges."

"Then they shall have it this time," cried the lad, and cutting a hole
with his knife in one corner of the powder-bag, he held it down at one
side behind the massive wall of the little tower, and striding his legs,
walked slowly forward till he reached the middle of the bridge, where he
plumped the powder-bag down, after leaving a little train of the black
grains behind him where he walked.

Then carefully avoiding it, he stepped quickly back to where Mark was
standing, and took out and handed him the flint and steel.

"You do it this time," he said. "We shall be in shelter here. I'll
watch and say when."

Mark took the rough implements, and knelt down by the commencement of
the train.

"Hold it close down, quite steady, and give one good nick, and it will
set the powder off."

"Come on, you cowardly dogs," cried a now familiar voice. "There's
everything that's good in there, and the place will be ours, I tell you.
What, going to be scared by a puff of smoke? The place is our own now.
All here?"

"Ay," came in a growl.

"Form in good order, three abreast, and charge right across and into the
yard. Halt! Steady! To think of running for a flash in the pan!"

"You ran too," growled a voice.

"You won't be happy till you're strung up, Hez Bingham," cried the
captain. "Now then: swords. Steady! Forward!"

"Now!" whispered Dummy; and as the men tramped on to the bridge for
their renewed attack, Mark struck the steel with his flint, and a tiny
spark or two fell.

"Quick--another!" whispered Dummy, and the men halted in the middle of
the bridge.

"Forward!" shouted the captain from the rear; "what are you halting
for?"

"What's this here?" growled one of the men in the first line, for he had
caught sight of the powder-bag lying in the middle of the pathway, his
question taking off his comrades' attention from the two sharp clicks
which came from behind the lesser gateway.

But they saw a