He fired straight in the direction of Hawkins's voice.
In another instant the air was rent with the sound of shots.

Flashes from many revolvers lit up the darkness almost as well as torches could have done.
Jim Duff, having started his followers to firing, stole off in the darkness, leaving them to bear the brunt of the return fire of Hawkins and his men.
George Ashby lay on the ground bound as he had been left, his sawed-off shotgun not far away and his belt full of shells.
"Rouse yourself, Ash!" muttered the gambler, as he slashed the hotel man's bonds with his knife.

"Get your gun, but don't use it now.

Move quickly, and we'll get away from here and take Reade and Hazelton with us.

Put your mind on your work, Ash, and follow my orders.