He stopped abruptly, contracted his brows, and gazed fixedly at Shorty. "Brother Walker," said Billings, "there's a tall man settin' close by the door that I seem to've seen before, and yit I don't exactly recognize. Please hold that candle nigh his face till I can see it more plainly." Shorty happened to be looking at another man that minute, and did not at first catch the drift of Billings's remarks. When he did, he hesitated an instant whether to whistle or try to get out. Before he could decide, Eph Glick, whom he had raided at Jeffersonville, struck him a heavy blow on the side of his head and yelled: "He's a traitor! He's a spy! Kill the infernal, egg-suckin' hound!" There was a rush of infuriated men, which carried Shorty over and made him the object of a storm of blows and kicks. So many piled on him at once that they struck and kicked one another in their confusion. The door was torn out, and its pieces fell with the tumble of cursing, striking, kicking men that rolled outside. Si rushed forward with his squad, and in an instant they were knocking right and left with their gun-barrels. So many fell on top of Shorty that he was unable to rise and extricate himself. Not exactly comprehending what was going on, but thinking that the time for them to act had come, the four boys to whom Si had given the duty of making the rush with the log to break down the door, came bolting up, shouting to their comrades: "Open out, there, for us." [Illustration: "THE PRISONERS HAD TOO MUCH SOLICITUDE ABOUT THEIR GARMENTS TO THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE." 185] Their battering-ram cleaned off the rest of those still pommeling Shorty, and drove back those who were swarming in the door. Shorty sprang up and gave a rib-breaking kick to the prostrate Eph Glick. The crowd inside at first recoiled at the sight of the soldiers, but, frightened for his own safety, Billings shouted, as he sheltered himself behind the altar: "Don't give way, men. There's only a few o' them. Draw your revolvers and shoot down the scum. Drive 'em away." A score of shots were fired in obedience, but Si, making his voice ring above the noise, called out: "Stop that firing, or I'll kill every man in the house. If there's another shot fired we'll open on you and keep it up till you're every one dead. Surrender at once!" "Go at 'em with the bayonet, Si," yelled Shorty. "I'm goin' around to ketch old Billings. He's in there, and'll try to sneak out the back way." As Shorty ran around the corner he came face-to-face with a stalwart Irishman, one of the pluckiest of the squad brought from Jeffersonville. His face was drawn and white with fright, and he fumbled at his beads.