He looked out of a crack in the rear wall and saw the top of an adjoining hill crowned with spectators, all of whom were armed.

Some time later he repulsed another attack and heard a faint cheer from his friends on the hill.

Then he saw a barrel, blazing from end to end, roll out from the place he had so carefully covered with mounds.

It gathered speed and bounded over the rough ground, flashed between two rocks and leaped into the trench, where it crackled and roared in vain.
"Now," said Hopalong, blazing at the mounds as fast as he could fire his rifle, "we'll just see what yu thinks of yore nice little covers." Yells of consternation and pain rang out in a swelling chorus, and legs and arms jerked and flopped, one man, in his astonishment at the shot that tore open his cheek, sitting up in plain sight of the marksman.
Roars of rage floated up from the main body of the besiegers, and the discomfited remnant of barrel-rollers broke for real cover.
Then he stopped another rush from the front, made upon the supposition that he was thinking only of the second detachment.

A hearty cheer arose from Tom Halloway and his friends, ensconced in their rocky position, and it was taken up by those on the hill, who danced and yelled their delight at the battle, to them more humorous than otherwise.
This recognition of his prowess from men of the caliber of his audience made him feel good, and he grinned: "Gee, I'll bet Halloway an' his friends is shore itchin' to get in this," he murmured, firing at a head that was shown for an instant.