"Never mind me.
I'm all right. Defend the house first. We must not let the thieves get
Helen Mowbray's property."
While several of the fellows held their shoulders to the door, which was
bulging with the power without to force it in, Bud and Ben carried a
heavy sideboard across the room and placed it against the door.
This held it for a while until other heavy articles made it secure.
They had no more than finished their work when a shot crashed through a
pane of glass in the dining room in which Ted lay, attended by Stella,
who was trying to stanch the blood from a wound in his side.
Kit gave a muffled groan, and put his hand to his arm. The blood was
trickling through his fingers.
"Keep out of range of the windows everybody," shouted Ted, from the
lounge.
"Them fellers is quick an' peevish!" shouted Bud. "I'm goin' ter git one
er two, shore's my name ain't John Henry Thomas Quackenbush."
There was a stairway in the hall, and Bud went up the steps three at a
time.
They heard his step overhead, then his voice in a roar of angry
surprise.
"Jumpin' sand-hill fleas!" he yelled. "So that's yer game, is it?"
Outside there was a crash, and through the window they saw a falling
ladder; then two men hurtling through the air.
In a moment there was a thud on the earth, and yells of agony.
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