"If other men so readily risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then I'm going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead of us do." "Just one shot apiece," sounded Dave Fulsbee's steady voice.
"Fire where you've been told." It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders of the camp.

Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook, the others at its crest.
Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new point of attack.

It filled the air at this end of the camp with bullets.
"Livin' rattlers!", cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet.

"That's the real attack.

Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on 'em.