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Updated: May 12, 2025
An ear-splitting screech and a heavy fall left little doubt of the success of the daring act. The Comanche had not only been hit, but hit hard. Although startled by the noise and flurry, Captain Shirril was too much of a veteran to be taken at fault.
He did not fall, but the height of his leap and the resonance of his outcry, instantly succeeded by a pronounced limp in his gait, left no doubt that he had gotten in the path of the hurtling messenger. "How are you making out, Baby?" asked Captain Shirril, turning his head and coolly scrutinizing his relative.
At that instant the resounding report of a rifle broke the stillness on the outside, there was a jingle of glass, and the pipe which Captain Shirril had held in his mouth while talking was shattered as if from the explosion of a torpedo within the bowl.
Shirril set down her gun, darted forward, and slipped back the bolt, making the door as secure as before. It was a strange act on her part thus releasing the red miscreant who was seeking her life, but, after all, it was characteristic of her sex.
"T'ank you," replied the African, who thought it best not to repel the offer of her friend; "dese am gettin' wored consid'ble, and by de time you got back, I'll need anoder pair." The evening was advancing. In answer to Ballyhoo's inquiries, Captain Shirril looked at his watch, and said that it was nearly eleven o'clock.
Shirril was on the point, more than once, of bringing her rifle to her shoulder and shooting down the wretch who was seeking their lives; but accustomed as she was to the rough experience of the frontier, she could not nerve herself to the point of doing so. She knew the precise spot where he was standing, and, at the first direct approach, she would shoot him as if he was a rabid dog.
Very few minutes were required to pass over the intervening space, but while doing so Captain Shirril made clear several facts which needed explanation. To these may be added others that came to light afterward. As has been intimated elsewhere, the suspicions of Gleeson regarding Shackaye were correct. He had joined the cattlemen for the purpose of helping Wygwind and his band to despoil them.
Evidently the Texan found it hard to understand the extremity of Captain Shirril and his family. "There are three of 'em there and each has a gun; I don't see why you need worry, 'cause the varmints can't get at 'em and they'll clear out in the morning." "That might be, but uncle says they will set fire to the cabin, unless they are driven off."
With only a brief halt the cowboys spurred their mustangs down the slope to attend to the cattle, but Avon Burnet remained on the crest, his interest lying elsewhere. There was only a single small field glass in the company, and as it happened that was in the possession of Captain Shirril, so that the youth had to depend upon his unaided vision.
But now Captain Shirril and Ballyhoo Gleeson sat before the fire, that was burning brightly, smoking their pipes, and talking as though the occurrence was of the most ordinary nature. The ranchman had made sure of his supply of tobacco, and intended to ride back to camp, after spending an hour or so within the house. Everyone had eaten supper before the lively incidents opened, and Mrs.
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