But as Ted Strong fell to the floor there was a rush through the hall, and in a moment he was surrounded by the broncho boys, who held the door while Bud and Ben picked Ted up and laid him on a sofa.

As he was laid down Ted opened his eyes.

"Barricade that door with the furniture," he commanded. "Never mind me. I'm all right. Defend the house first. We must not let the thieves get Helen Mowbray's property."

While several of the fellows held their shoulders to the door, which was bulging with the power without to force it in, Bud and Ben carried a heavy sideboard across the room and placed it against the door.

This held it for a while until other heavy articles made it secure.

They had no more than finished their work when a shot crashed through a pane of glass in the dining room in which Ted lay, attended by Stella, who was trying to stanch the blood from a wound in his side.

Kit gave a muffled groan, and put his hand to his arm. The blood was trickling through his fingers.

"Keep out of range of the windows everybody," shouted Ted, from the lounge.

"Them fellers is quick an' peevish!" shouted Bud. "I'm goin' ter git one er two, shore's my name ain't John Henry Thomas Quackenbush."

There was a stairway in the hall, and Bud went up the steps three at a time.

They heard his step overhead, then his voice in a roar of angry surprise.

"Jumpin' sand-hill fleas!" he yelled. "So that's yer game, is it?"

Outside there was a crash, and through the window they saw a falling ladder; then two men hurtling through the air.

In a moment there was a thud on the earth, and yells of agony.

"They were trying to surprise us from above, but good old Bud got there in time to fool them," said Ted. "Bully for him. Ben, go up and help him. He may need it."

Several shots outside broke the silence that followed the fall of the ladder, and the breaking of glass in the upper windows.

Then came a fusillade in the upper rooms.

"Bud and Ben are giving them as good as they send," muttered Ted.

From the yells that came from the garden the shots from above had evidently done some execution, for they were followed by a rush of feet, then silence.

"Look out, Kit," said Ted, "and see what's doing. But be careful; do not expose yourself."

"No one in sight," said Kit, peering around the corner of the window casing, having first put his hat in an exposed position to draw fire if there were any sharpshooters on guard outside.

"Wait! Great Scott, they're going to set fire to the house!" yelled Kit, running from the room.

In spite of the protestations of Stella, Ted staggered to his feet and followed Kit.

He swayed from weakness as he ran, but appeared to grow stronger with the excitement.

Two men had rushed to the shelter of the side of the house, and were now safe from shots from the windows.

One of them had trundled before him a tar barrel, while the other had his arms full of shavings.

This was the sight that had caused Kit's exclamation.

"Gee whiz, this is bad," said Kit. "In a minute they'll have the stuff blazing, and the house will go in this wind as if it was made of oiled paper. What are we to do?"

Ted, who was holding himself up against a table to keep from falling, thought a moment.

"They're watching for us to stick our heads out of a window to take a shot at those fire bugs, and, if we do, that's the end," said Ted to himself. "But we must get them before the house catches."

Suddenly he straightened up. A spasm of pain crossed his face, and he clutched his side.

"Ted, you must not exert yourself," said Stella, springing toward him. "Ted, remember you are wounded; you do not know how badly."

"I'm all right," answered Ted, with a grim smile. "Let me alone for a while, Stella. Then you can fuss over me all you like. I've got to think of some way to circumvent those devils."

Suddenly he drew his revolver from its holster.

"I have it," he said briskly. "It's taking a risk, but it must be done. If they set the house afire it's all off with us. Kit, stand ready to throw open the door when I give the word. Then shield me from shots from the shrubbery on the opposite side of the garden. The gang is hiding behind those bushes."

"What are you going to do?" asked Stella breathlessly.

"I'm going out to stop those fellows with the tar barrel."

"You are not. I will not let you," cried Stella.

Ted gave Stella a peculiar look that she had never seen in his face before, and she rather quailed from it, it was so full of authority and force.

"Sorry, Stella, to do anything against your wishes," he said quietly. "But some one must do it, and Kit is wounded in his pistol arm, and the other boys are busy."

"Oh, fiddle!" cried Stella. "You are wounded yourself."

"But I'm going, just the same. Stand ready, Kit."

Kit sprang to the door.

Already they could smell the burning tar.

"Hi, deir der puilding firing up alretty," shouted Carl, bursting into the room, pale with apprehension.

"All right, Carl. Stand back from the door, and do as Kit tells you," said Ted. Then, with a look at Stella, which seemed to ask her forgiveness for acting against her wishes, he got ready for a rush.

"Open!" he yelled.

Kit threw the door wide, and Ted Strong sprang out into the garden, and ran swiftly along toward the rear, keeping close to the wall.

He was firing toward the shrubbery as he ran, and those on guard inside heard yells of agony.

Evidently Ted was making good with his bullets.

There came a return fire from the shrubbery, directed not at the open door, but at the flying figure of Ted.

Stella, Kit, and Carl poured a hot fusillade into the bushes, but did not seem able to silence the fire from them.

Then Stella did a foolhardy thing. Without a word of warning she leaped through the doorway, and stood on the step outside, looking after Ted.

She saw him running weakly toward the corner of the house, where two men were bending over the tar barrel, into which they had put the shavings.

They had set fire to the shavings, and were lifting the barrel to place it against the side of the house.

And now the barrel was blazing like a gasoline torch, and the flame was licking the side of the house.

But Ted was upon them. They did not see him, as their backs were toward him, and in a minute both had gone sprawling over the barrel, falling in a heap on the ground.

In a flash Ted had sent the barrel rolling down the yard, and with a piece of canvas, which he had picked up from the ground, was beating out the flames which were creeping up the side of the house.

But the men were on their feet now, and, seeing the cause of their discomfiture, they ran toward Ted with howls of rage, and reached his side as Stella, who had started toward Ted when she saw that the men were about to attack him, was still some distance off.

Ted was not aware of the presence of the men until they were directly behind him. Then he turned, only to be met with a blow on the head with the butt of a pistol, and he sank to the ground with a groan.

Meanwhile, Kit, whose duty it was to cover Ted's attack on the house burners from the doorway, was not able to get a shot because Stella's body was between him and the corner of the house.

As Ted went down with a groan Stella drew her revolver and blazed away.

At her first shot one of the men ran off, limping and yelping like a kicked cur.

The other, conscious that the bullets from her revolver were singing unpleasantly near to his head, made a dash for the shrubbery.

Bending over Ted, Stella tried to see how badly he was hurt.

"You reckless boy," she was saying. "See how you run into danger. Now you have two wounds for me to nurse, if you are not killed."

She was trying to lift him to a sitting posture when she felt herself grasped around the waist, and before she could make a motion in her own defense, was borne swiftly across the yard, and into the shrubbery.

Her scream rang out piercingly, and the boys ran in a body into the garden.

But by the time they got there Stella was out of sight, and they were met with a fusillade of bullets from the shrubbery, causing them to retreat into the house again and close the door.

None of them had noticed Ted lying unconscious at the corner of the house.

They were no sooner out of sight than three men sped from the shrubbery across the yard, and, seizing Ted by the heels and shoulders, ran back with him into the place of concealment.

As they threw Ted down on the grass none too gently, the pain brought him back to life and wrung a groan from him.

When he opened his eyes he saw Stella sitting beside him trying to hold his head from the ground.

Several men were there, too, lying flat, peering underneath the shrubbery toward the house.

Every man was armed either with a rifle or a revolver, and occasionally one or the other of them would fire a shot at the house, which would be answered by the boys.

"They fire too high," muttered Ted to himself, "because they do not know that these rascals are lying flat. Every ball goes a foot too high. Wish I could let them know, but then they would probably hit Stella or me."

Lying beside him was Burk, the deputy marshal, his greenish-gray eyes looking coldly at the house, and whenever he saw a chance for a shot his rifle flew to his shoulder.

He became conscious that Ted was looking at him, and turned with a grin on his face.

"So we got you at last, eh?" he said to Ted, with a sneer. "You thought you could put this thing through because you are a deputy United States marshal, did you? Well, you won't be a marshal much longer."

"I think I'll be longer at the job than you will," Ted replied slowly.

"Not after your attempt to loot a dead woman's house while her body still lies there under guard of a United States officer."

This caused Ted to think of the situation in a different light. True, he believed that Burk was a crook, and that it was he who was conspiring to rob the house, but he had authority on his side, while Ted's belief, after all, was based on surmise, and he would have difficulty in proving anything criminal against the marshal. At the same time, he did not fear for his own part in the affair, because behind him was the brother of the dead woman.

"I say, Burk, I'm tired of this nonsense, lying here and potting away at the house," said a drawling voice, the owner of which could not be seen, being hidden behind the shrubbery.

"Can't help it," answered Burk. "We've got to take our time. The house is full of them, and they can shoot some."

"Rot! So can we. I propose that we rush them. But first I want the pleasure of putting my revolver against the head of that young bully there and the girl, and getting rid of them. Think what's at stake. We must get away from here soon."

"Don't talk nonsense," growled Burk, in reply.

"I'm getting tired of it, I tell you. Three of our men are wounded now, and that red-headed beggar is going to die, and he was such a good cook."

The speaker laughed unpleasantly at his gruesome joke.

"Well, we can't do it now, because we don't know how they're situated. We'd have had them when they all rushed out a few minutes ago if you hadn't shot at them so soon, and driven them indoors again. Why didn't you let them get into the open, where we could have shot them down?"

Stella shuddered at the cold-blooded tone in which these men discussed the killing of the boys, but Ted only smiled, for he knew that Burk was at heart a coward, and that he did not care to rush, nor would he stand a rush should one come.

He wished he was back in the house and knew the enemy's situation as well as he did now. He would not give them time to run very far.

If he could communicate to the boys in some manner the exact situation, he felt confident that the thing would be over in a very short time.

"I say, Strong, I've a proposition to make to you," said Burk, after a silence.

"Well, out with it," said Ted coldly.

"There's no use of any more of us being hurt or killed," said Burk, looking at Ted out of the corner of his eye.

"Then why don't you quit shooting and vamose?"

"That's not for me to do," said Burk hotly.

"Oh, I see. You want us to quit, eh?"

"Sure. You're the fellows who broke in there over our guard. But if you'll call your fellows off and get out of the house, I'll agree to turn you and the young lady loose. But nothing must be taken from the house."

"That seems right generous of you," said Ted, with a sarcastic smile, which Burk didn't see because his head was turned the other way.

"It's a darned more than you deserve, but I don't want any more of my fellows shot up."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just step out there and holler to your boys to quit firing, and tell them that you're going to quit, and then——"

Ted just laughed, and Burk turned upon him with a scowl.

At that moment there was a cheer from the direction of the house; then a few scattering shots from the men in the shrubbery.

Ted heard the doors of the house open, and the swift patter of running feet. The old Moon Valley yell was in his ears. All the men in the shrubbery had sprung to their feet, and were running wildly about. A man crawled through the bushes—the man with the face he had seen at the window.

As he crawled close to Ted the expression of his face was awful to contemplate.

Such fiendish, murderous hatred he had never seen in a human countenance before.

When he was so close to Ted that he could hear his feverish breathing, the man suddenly thrust forward a pistol until the muzzle was within an inch of Ted's head.

Ted struggled to grapple with him, but he had grown so stiff from his wound that he could hardly stir. He was looking death close in the face.

The man was just about to pull the trigger when close at hand the major's voice rang out in an exclamation of amazement:

"Mowbray! You here?"

The man with the pistol sprang to his feet and faced Major Caruthers for a second. Then, with a wild cry of fear, he sprang away through the shrubbery and escaped.