With something of an effort, Kit recovered his self-control as the figure turned and came towards him.  It moved with a curious stealthy gait, making no noise, and this was enough for Kit.  He had no grounds for distrusting the sailors, and they wore heavy boots.  Trying not to change his position, he felt for his automatic pistol.  The butt caught a fold of his sash and he was forced to bend his elbow in order to get it out.  It looked as if he would be too late, and he slipped as the movement dislodged the rubbish on which he sat.  Then, as he shrank with an instinctive quiver from the prick of the knife, the figure swerved and leaped back.

Kit threw up the pistol and pulled the trigger.  There was a flash that dazzled his eyes and a little smoke curled up, but when he leaned forward his antagonist had gone.  He heard no movement when he sprang to his feet and almost imagined he had been dreaming, until the sailors shouted and their boots rattled on the broken floor.  They ran in and when Kit told them what had happened went to the hole in the wall.

The moonlight touched the front of the building and part of the road was bright, but the shadow of the forest had crept across the rest.  All was very quiet; there was no sound in the gloom.  Then a flake of plaster fell close behind Kit’s head and a sharp report rolled across the trees.  One of the men shot at a venture and two of his companions ran savagely along the road, until Kit called them back.

“Come in,” he said when they returned.  “You’re a plain mark in the moonlight and can’t see the other fellow among the trees.”

“Looks as if it was you he wanted,” one replied.  “Well, I guess we have no use for being left without a boss, and since we don’t like our camping ground, you have got to come with us.  We’ll draw cuts for who’s to watch.”

Kit went with them.  He felt shaken, for the man who had brought down the plaster was obviously a good shot.  He imagined it was another who had intended to stab him; in fact, a number of his enemies might be lurking about.  He was not, as a rule, vindictive, but the stealthy attack had induced a dangerous mood and he was sorry he had missed the man.  It was hard to see why he had done so, but he had, perhaps, been half asleep.  Now, however, he resolved to watch until day broke.

CHAPTER XI

KIT KEEPS HIS PROMISE

It was getting light when the man on watch called Kit, who went to the gap in the wall.  Thin mist drifted about the trees and trailed across the road.  There was some open ground in front of the building, but behind this the forest loomed in a blurred, shadowy mass.

“I reckon I saw something move where the fog’s on the road,” the man remarked.

Kit saw nothing.  His eyes were keen, for he had searched the hillsides for sheep, but it looked as if they were not as keen as the sailor’s, and standing in the shadow he watched the indicated spot.  After a minute or two, a figure came out of the fog and signaled with a lifted hand.