This room had two windows and a door facing the lane, and a door at each end, one of which opened into the kitchen and the other into an adjoining and later-built cabin.

The logs of this main cabin were of large size, and the doors and window coverings were heavy, affording safer protection from bullets than the other cabins.
When Jean went in he seemed to see a host of white faces lifted to him.
His sister Ann, his two sisters-in-law, the children, all mutely watched him with eyes that would haunt him.
"Wal, Blaisdell, Jean says Jorth an' his precious gang of rustlers are on the way heah," announced the rancher.
"Damn me if it's not a bad day fer Lee Jorth!" declared Blaisdell.
"Clear off that table," ordered Isbel, "an' fetch out all the guns an' shells we got." Once laid upon the table these presented a formidable arsenal, which consisted of the three new .44 Winchesters that Jean had brought with him from the coast; the enormous buffalo, or so-called "needle" gun, that Gaston Isbel had used for years; a Henry rifle which Blaisdell had brought, and half a dozen six-shooters.

Piles and packages of ammunition littered the table.
"Sort out these heah shells," said Isbel.

"Everybody wants to get hold of his own." Jacobs, the neighbor who was present, was a thick-set, bearded man, rather jovial among those lean-jawed Texans.

He carried a .44 rifle of an old pattern.