“It looks bad,” admitted Bridge.  “In fact it couldn’t look much worse; but here we are, and while our ammunition holds out about all we can do is stay here and use it.  Will you men stand by us?” he addressed the Chinaman and the two Mexicans, who assured him that they had no love for Pesita and would fight for Anthony Harding in preference to going over to the enemy.

“Good!” exclaimed Bridge, “and now for upstairs.  They’ll be howling around here in about five minutes, and we want to give them a reception they won’t forget.”

He led the way to the second floor, where the five took up positions near the front windows.  A short distance from the ranchhouse they could see the enemy, consisting of a detachment of some twenty of Pesita’s troopers riding at a brisk trot in their direction.

“Pesita’s with them,” announced Bridge, presently.  “He’s the little fellow on the sorrel.  Wait until they are close up, then give them a few rounds; but go easy on the ammunition —­we haven’t any too much.”

Pesita, expecting no resistance, rode boldly into the ranchyard.  At the bunkhouse and the office his little force halted while three or four troopers dismounted and entered the buildings in search of victims.  Disappointed there they moved toward the ranchhouse.

“Lie low!” Bridge cautioned his companions.  “Don’t let them see you, and wait till I give the word before you fire.”

On came the horsemen at a slow walk.  Bridge waited until they were within a few yards of the house, then he cried:  “Now!  Let ’em have it!” A rattle of rifle fire broke from the upper windows into the ranks of the Pesitistas.  Three troopers reeled and slipped from their saddles.  Two horses dropped in their tracks.  Cursing and yelling, the balance of the horsemen wheeled and galloped away in the direction of the office building, followed by the fire of the defenders.

“That wasn’t so bad,” cried Bridge.  “I’ll venture a guess that Mr. Pesita is some surprised—­and sore.  There they go behind the office.  They’ll stay there a few minutes talking it over and getting up their courage to try it again.  Next time they’ll come from another direction.  You two,” he continued, turning to the Mexicans, “take positions on the east and south sides of the house.  Sing can remain here with Mr. Harding.  I’ll take the north side facing the office.  Shoot at the first man who shows his head.  If we can hold them off until dark we may be able to get away.  Whatever happens don’t let one of them get close enough to fire the house.  That’s what they’ll try for.”

It was fifteen minutes before the second attack came.  Five dismounted troopers made a dash for the north side of the house; but when Bridge dropped the first of them before he had taken ten steps from the office building and wounded a second the others retreated for shelter.

Time and again as the afternoon wore away Pesita made attempts to get men close up to the house; but in each instance they were driven back, until at last they desisted from their efforts to fire the house or rush it, and contented themselves with firing an occasional shot through the windows opposite them.