And, as if to enforce his command, Slavin set his huge shoulder against the door and gave a heave which caused the stout wood to crack ominously.

“Look out, Burke!” cried Yorke suddenly.  His right arm shot out and jerked the maddened Irishman violently towards him.  His hasty action was only just in time.

Bang! bang!  Two muffled shots detonated within, and white splinters flew from a spot in the door covered a moment before by the sergeant’s broad breast.  With a startled oath Slavin flung up his gun, as if to fire back; but Yorke clutched his arm and arrested the action.

“No, no, Burke!” he hissed warningly, “no use doing that!  You bet he’s not there now.  Lying ‘doggo’ behind the logs, most likely.  You’d only blow a hole in the door that he could pick us off through after.  We’re proper marks in the moonlight here!  Let’s back up, and keep the front covered.”

Slavin, balked of his prey, rumbled in his throat awhile, like some huge bear; then, adopting Yorke’s suggestion, he slowly backed up with the latter to the sheltering brush, where they rejoined the expectant, anxious doctor.

“Hit, either of you?” he enquired tersely.

Yorke replied in the negative.  “Mighty close shave for Burke here, though” he added, “lucky I heard Gully cocking that blasted Luger of his.”  He uttered a suppressed chuckle, “Burke’s always one to go cautioning others, and then lose his temper and expose himself.”

For some few minutes they canvassed the situation in tense whispers, lying prone in the brush with their carbines covering their objective.

“Sh-sh!” hissed the doctor suddenly.  “Hark!”

With all their faculties on the stretch, they held their breaths and listened intently.  In the stillness they heard the unmistakable noise as of a window being cautiously lifted.  The sound came from the southern end of the building.

Then they heard Redmond’s voice ring out sharply from the bank:  “No use, Gully!  I’ve got you covered!  You can’t make it from there!  You’d better give in, man.”

There was an instant’s silence, then—­crack! came the crisp report of the Luger.  It was answered by the deep, reverberating bang! of a carbine, and the crash of splintered glass and woodwork was followed by a boyish laugh.

“Told you Reddy was there with the goods!” remarked Yorke, triumphantly, to his superior, “don’t suppose he got him though—­Gully’s too fly—­he’d duck into shelter the instant he’d fired.  I’ll bet he’s doing some tall thinking just now.  Beggar’s between the devil and the deep sea—­properly.  He’ll chuck up the sponge just now, you’ll see.”

“Eyah!” agreed Slavin, with an oath, “he’s up against it.  But Reddy down there—­I du not like th’ idea av th’ bhoy bein’ all alone.  Yorkey, yu’ shlink thru’ th’ brush an’ down th’ bank an’ kape um company awhile.  Th’ Docthor an’ me’ll kape th’ front here covered.”