The interview was shorter than the captain had antic.i.p.ated.

"Well, is it surrender or not?" asked Matt Gilroy.

"We must have more time," answered Captain Moore. "Cannot you wait until to-morrow morning?"

"Not another minute," was the angry reply. "Is it surrender or not?

Answer yes or no."

"We will not surrender--at least not yet," came from the young captain firmly.

"Then your time is up, and we shall attack at once," returned the leader of the desperadoes. "Am I not right, White Ox?"

"You have spoken truly," came from the Indian chief. "Soon the blood of the white soldiers will flow freely."

Without another word White Ox galloped away, and Matt Gilroy went after him.

"We are up against a battle now!" exclaimed Lieutenant Bacon.

"I have done my best to delay the contest--I can do no more," said Captain Moore.

When he returned inside of the stockade he was immediately surrounded.

"Boys, we must fight," he said in a loud, clear voice. "They will wait no longer. But re-enforcements must be on the way by this time. Can I depend upon your standing by me?"

"Yes! yes!" was the cry.

"We know how to do our duty to Uncle Sam and the flag!"

"Let the desperadoes and the Indians come on! We'll give them as hot a reception as they ever got!"

While the soldiers were taking their way to the several defenses of the fort there was the beating of Indian drums at a distance, followed by the blowing of a bugle in the camp of the desperadoes.

Soon the beating and blowing came from half a dozen directions.

"They are gathering, sure enough!" exclaimed Joe. "I wonder how long it will be before they fire the first shot?"

"They'll not be rash--be sure of that," answered Darry. "They must know that the fort is a strong place."

A little later one of the guards announced that bodies of Indians were marching from the south of the fort to the westward.

Here there was a fringe of trees at a distance of not over a hundred yards from the stockade.

Colonel Fairfield had often thought to have the belt of timberland cut down, but had never put the plan into execution.

"They mean to get as close as possible before they expose themselves,"

said the captain. "Dilberry, have the four-pounder trained on that spot."

"I will, Captain Moore," said the head gunner, and saluted.

Quarter of an hour went by, and the drumming and bugle calling had ceased.

Suddenly a shout went up from behind the belt of timberland, and a small cannon spoke up, sending a sh.e.l.l into the ditch outside the stockade.

"Hullo, they have a cannon after all," thought Captain Moore. He called Dilberry to him. "Can you get the range of that piece?" he asked.

"I can try, sir."

"Then do it, and if you can disable the piece so much the better."

At once the head gunner ran off and sighted one of the cannon of the fort with care.

A few seconds later the cannon spoke up with a report that rang in the boys' ears for long after. The ball sped straight into the timberland and cut down a heavy sapling growing beside the piece the enemy were reloading. One desperado was killed instantly and another badly injured.

"A fair shot!" said the young captain. "Try it again," but before Dilberry could do so the cannon was withdrawn from sight.

After this came another lull, as if desperadoes and Indians were considering what to do next.

"It's a wonder they don't make a rush," said Joe, "if they have so many in their command."

"n.o.body cares to risk an advance in the open, Joe," said old Benson.

"More than likely they won't try to do much until dark."

Again the Indian drums were rolling, coupled with shrill warwhoops.

Then, with a wild yelling and a brandishing of rifles, about a hundred and fifty red men burst from cover and ran toward the stockade.

"They are coming!" was the cry.

"Stand firm, men, don't waste your ammunition!" Captain Moore cried. He turned to the gunner. "Let them have it, Dilberry!"

Bang! the cannon boomed out again, and the shot tore through the advancing horde of Indians, laying four of them low.

Then came a volley from the red men, followed by the discharge of the piece in the hands of the desperadoes. The splinters flew in several directions around the stockade and one soldier was seriously wounded.

The cannon ball grazed the flagstaff, and presently it was seen to totter.

"Look out!" roared old Benson to Joe, and as he spoke down came the Stars and Stripes on the heads of Joe and Darry, and a section of the flagstaff with it.

"The flag is down!" A score of voices took up the cry, and a yell of triumph came from the Indians and desperadoes.

"It's not going to remain down!" cried old Benson, and began to climb what remained of the pole. He carried the halyard with him, and soon, with the aid of the two boys, he had the glorious Stars and Stripes once more in position.

In the meantime the soldiers under Captain Moore were busy. The Indians were now at the ditch, and one had advanced as far as the stockade itself. They were yelling like demons, and now the desperadoes began to show themselves, confident that the fort would soon be taken.

"They haven't got a corporal's guard to defend it!" cried Matt Gilroy.

"Nearly everyone of those inside is sick. Come on!"

The noise was now deafening, for soldiers and Indians were discharging their weapons as rapidly as possible. The red men had brought with them a long board, to which cross-pieces were nailed. This board was now set slantingly against the stockade, and a dozen warriors rushed upon it.