The suspense irritated him, he no longer dreaded but even longed for the shot that would precipitate hostilities.

What were they doing?
Guided by Seth, were they concerting a fresh attack?
Listening more intently he became aware of a distant shouting, and even more distinctly, of the dull, heavy trampling of hoofs.

A sudden angry fear that the McKinstrys had been beaten off and were flying--a fear and anger that now for the first time identified him with their cause--came over him, and he scrambled quickly towards the opening below.

But the sound was approaching and with it came a voice.
"Hold on there, sheriff!" It was the voice of the agent Stacey.
There was a pause of reluctant murmuring.

But the warning was enforced by a command from another voice--weak, unheroic, but familiar, "I order this yer to stop--right yer!" A burst of ironical laughter followed.