Then he started to say something, faltered and stared with horror at a point several feet behind his opponent.

The "terror" sprang to one side in response to Hop-along's expression, as if fearing that a snake or some such danger threatened him.

As he alighted in his new position he fell forward and Hopalong slid a smoking Colt in its holster.
Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim.

Hopalong reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle, with which he covered their advance.
"Anything yu want ?" he shouted savagely.
The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two others, but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a move that would screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a warning shout.
Then the two held up their hands and advanced.
"We wants to git Dan," called out one of them, nodding at the prostrate figure.
"Come ahead," replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those whom they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who only smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a siege, should one come.

He had one hundred rounds of ammunition and provisions enough for two weeks, with the assurance of reinforcements long before that time would expire.