Swiftly and warily they skirmished towards their objective.  Half of the party, under a sergeant, crept along below the sheltering river bank where they soon joined the wearied, but still vigilant, Yorke.  The rest, under the inspector, making a wide detour of the ranch, gained the brush on its eastern side.  Among this last party were Hardy, McSporran and McCullough.  In extended order they glided through the thick scrub and, reaching its fringe, flung themselves prone with their carbines held in readiness.

The inspector gradually wormed himself up beside Slavin who, in a few tense whispers, acquainted his superior with all details of the situation.  Full well, both men realized what a perilous spot it was, for all concerned, on the eastern front of the shack.  Straining their eyes in the gray, ghostly gloom they could just discern an open casement.  Apparently it was from this well-sheltered embrasure that Gully had previously attempted to pick off Slavin.  With the coming of daylight their position would be absolutely untenable in the face of further fire from the enemy.  On the other hand, if they retreated further into the scrub they would lose sight of their objective altogether.

So much Kilbride intimated to the sergeant as they held whispered consultation.  Also, he imparted reassuring news anent Redmond.  The latter’s injury, though serious, was not a mortal hurt, according to a report from MacDavid, who had left the doctor watching his patient closely at the detachment.

Suddenly, a few paces to the right of where they lay, came the sound of one of the party stealthily clearing his throat.  Poor fellow! his momentary lack of caution proved to be his death warrant.

Crack!  A spurt of flame leapt from the velvety-black square of casement.  The horrid, unforgetable cry of a man wounded unto death echoed the shot, and the startled besiegers could hear their comrade threshing around amongst the dead leaves in his agony.

“Steady, men! steady now! don’t expose yourselves!” yelled the inspector.  “Fire at that window, while I get to this man!—­keep me covered!”

His commands were eagerly obeyed.  Sheltered by the roaring burst of carbine fire he wriggled sideways in feverish haste and eventually gained the stricken man.  The latter’s convulsive threshing of limbs had ceased and an instant’s examination convinced the inspector that Gully’s random shot had been fatal.

For awhile the besiegers poured in brisk volleys upon the door and windows, until the inspector gave the command to “Cease Fire!” Suddenly—­mockingly—­hard upon the last shot, the echoes of which had barely died away, came again the vicious, whip-like crack of the Luger; this time from the southern end of the shack.  The long-drawn, nerve-shattering scream of the first casualty was duplicated, and a carbine volley crashed from the river bank.

Then up from the attacking party swelled an exceeding bitter, angry cry; the grim, deadly exasperation of men goaded to the point of recklessly attempting ruthless reprisal upon their hidden enemy.  With a total disregard of personal safety many of them sprang up out of cover, as if to charge upon their hated objective.