The cook shack was built out o' pine logs at the bottom, an' fixed so the upper sides'd swing out like awnings in hot weather. We felt purty comfortable. The' was a square window at each end an' one on the side facin' the house; the stove was on the other side. We made little Barbie sit in the corner behind the stove. Jabez took the window facin' the house, me the one facin' the dug-out, an' the sub-cook facin' the corral. I could shoot cleaner'n Monody, so he stood by to do my loadin', an' we proceeded to waste ammunition. It's enough to make the oldest man the' is reckless, when you think of the weight o' lead good aimers can throw without spillin' any blood. After a bit things grew quiet, an' then we saw a small freight-wagon backin' down to the door with a lot o' wood across the back of it. Jabez came over to my window an' we shot into an' under the wagon; but it still backed up. The' was a little grade down to the cook shack, an' after they got it started the' wasn't much to do but guide. They had fixed a stick o' wood pointin' straight back from the rear axle, an' when it hit the door the bar broke an' the door flew off its hinges an' clear across the room. But gettin' the wagon away for their rush was a different matter, an' we all shot at one another purty regardless. Once I reached back my hand for a fresh gun an' failed to get any. I turned around, an' there was Monody holdin' the sub-cook's right wrist with his left hand an' grippin' at his throat with his right. The' was a horrid look on the sub-cook's face, an' just as I turned to interfere, Monody gave a wrench which tore out the cook's wind-pipe, gave him a sling which landed him under the table, an' handed me a fresh gun. I was some bothered about this; but that wa'n't no time to hold an investigation, so I begun shootin' at flashes again. "How's your catridges holdin' out?" sez Jabez. "Ain't many left," sez Monody. "I'm about cleaned myself," sez Jabez. "Where's Jim?" "I think he's about once through," sez I, an' we proceeded to shoot more economical. Purty soon they quit firin' again an' then the freight wagon started up the hill. They had put their ropes on the tongue an' were draggin' it out with ponies. We knew what that meant an' took a brace. The lull what followed was the hardest part o' the whole business. Ther' wasn't a blasted thing we could do, an' it seemed hours before the neat volley came from the corner o' the dug-out. We didn't reply to it, which was most uncommon lucky for us; 'cause first thing we knew, they came rompin' around each corner an' poured in on top of us. They was used to fightin' against odds, an' it irritated 'em consid'able to take so long at a job with the odds in their favor. Outside, the starlight give us a purty fair aim, while they couldn't do more than guess at us--so we beat 'em off once more. "The's only three shots in this gun," sez Monody, cheerfully, as he handed my iron back to me. "What's that?" sez Jabez.