about a wagon or buck-board was being pounded into place or shape.

"It's them, sir," muttered the sergeant; "it's that bloody gang, for
there's no stage due to-night, and if it was Harvey's ambulance,
recaptured, 'tis from the northeast it would be coming."

"Mightn't they have missed the trail in the darkness, and, having no
ranch lights to guide them, got lost somewhere out there?"

"Not likely, sir; shure there'd be a squad of the troop and half a
dozen old hands with 'em if it was Harvey's. This has come from the
pass, and it won't be long before they'll be coming ahead. You'll need
your carbine then. Damn that man Mullan! can't I wake him yet?"

Apparently not; even the well-directed kick only evoked a groan.
Taking a couple of carbines, Feeny returned to the major, silently
handing him one of the weapons, saying, "It's loaded, sir, and here's
more cartridges."

Then again both men listened intently.

No sound now. The hammering had ceased. One--two minutes they waited,
then nearer at hand than before, clear, sharp, and distinct, out from
the darkness came the unmistakable crack of a whip. At the sound Feeny
knelt. Click, click went the hammer of his carbine to full cock.
Another moment of breathless silence. Then the muffled sound of hoofs,
the creak of wagon-springs, then a voice,--

"It can't be far away. Ride ahead and see if you can't rout somebody
out."