To no purpose, however.
"Get a chair, Hugh," he cried. "We'll smash the door in."
"How do we know what's waiting for us in the hall?"
"I don't care. We've got to get out of here."
There was a deafening report of a gun fired in the narrow hall. The panel
of the door close to Bob's head was splintered, and a bullet shot across
the room, shivering the one remaining pane of glass left in the window.
"Duck!" shouted Hugh. "Get away from that door!"
Bob needed no second urging. He sprang aside and cowered against the
side of the wall. The two boys looked at each other, pale-lipped and
breathing hard.
"Whew," exclaimed Hugh. "That was a close call."
Bob whipped his pistol out of his pocket, and began to crawl back
toward the door.
"What are you going to do?" demanded Hugh in alarm.
"I'm going to send a bullet through there myself," said Bob. "We might
just as well let them know we're alive too."
"Don't you do it. You'll only waste your bullets and it may help us later
if they don't know we are armed.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116