I leaped to the door and flung it open, Lockhart, Wilson and Brown crowding close behind me. A body of men filled the hallway, and Porter was struggling in the hands of three ruffians. His revolver, whose shot we had heard, had been knocked from his hand and lay on the floor. The sudden appearance of four more weapons in the open doorway startled the enemy into pausing for a moment. I sprang forward and gave the nearest of Porter's assailants a blow that sent him staggering into the midst of his band, and with a wrench Porter tore himself loose from the other two and was with us again. “What does this mean?” I cried angrily to the invaders. “What are you here for?” There were perhaps a dozen of them altogether, and in the midst of the band I saw the evil face and snake-eyes of Tom Terrill. At the sight of his repulsive features I could scarce refrain from sending a bullet in his direction. Darby Meeker growled an answer. “You know what we're here for.” “You have broken into a respectable house like a band of robbers,” I cried. “What do you want?” “You know what we want, Mr. Wilton,” was the surly answer. “Give us the boy and we won't touch you.” “And if not?” There was silence for a few moments. “What are you waiting for?” growled a voice from beyond the turn of the hall. At the sound I thrilled to the inmost fiber. Was it not the growl of the Wolf? Could I be mistaken in those tones? I listened eagerly for another word that might put it beyond doubt. “Well, are you going to give him up?” asked the hoarse voice of Meeker. “There has got to be some better reason for it than your demand,” I suggested. “Well, we've got reasons enough here. Stand ready, boys.” “Look out!” I said to my men, with a glance behind. As I turned I saw without noting it that Wainwright and Fitzhugh had come out of the boy's room to take a hand in the impending trouble. Lockhart and Wilson slipped in front of me. “Get back and look after the boy,” whispered the former. “We can hold 'em here.” “Move ahead there!” shouted a fierce voice that again thrilled the ear and heart with the growl of the Wolf. “What are you afraid of?” “Stand fast, boys,” I said to my men. “Wainwright, keep close to the bedroom.” Then I shouted defiance to the enemy. “The first man that moves forward gets killed! There are eight revolvers here.” Then I saw that Wainwright had come forward, despite my bidding, eager to take his share of the onslaught. And by some freak of the spirit of the perverse the boy, who had shown himself so timid during the day, had now slipped out of his room and climbed upon a chair to see what the excitement was about, as though danger and death were the last things in the world with which he had to reckon.