the shutters tight and get in all the water we can—to drink and to put out fires with. It's lucky father cut those port-holes in the roof. They'll be just the spots to bring down Injuns from."
"My boy, you cannot do it!" cried Mrs. Morris. in increased alarm. "Even if your father gets back what can three do against a horde of redskins? They will fire the cabin and shoot you down the moment you are driven out by the flames."
"Well, I don't believe in letting the rascals have our cabin and belongings," returned Rodney, stubbornly. "I'm only a cripple, but I'm willing to fight to the last. If we run for it, how much can we take along? Not much, I can tell you that."
"Yes, but our lives are more precious to us than our things here," said his mother. "And remember Nell, Rodney. If she fell into the Indians' hands—" Mrs. Morris did not finish, but her breast heaved and two big tears started from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
"Well, you wouldn't want to go before father got back, would you?" asked Rodney, after a pause.
"He is coming now—at least I hear somebody on horseback!" cried Dave. "Perhaps it's an Indian," and he reached for his gun, which he had brought in and placed beside the door.
He went out, and Mrs. Morris and Rodney came
