There was a wood-rank four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I was going to hide behind that; but maybe it was luckier I didn't.
There was four or five men cavorting around on their horses in the open place before the log store, cussing and yelling, and trying to get at a couple of young chaps that was behind the wood-rank alongside of the steamboat landing; but they couldn't come it.

Every time one of them showed himself on the river side of the woodpile he got shot at.

The two boys was squatting back to back behind the pile, so they could watch both ways.
By and by the men stopped cavorting around and yelling.

They started riding towards the store; then up gets one of the boys, draws a steady bead over the wood-rank, and drops one of them out of his saddle.

All the men jumped off of their horses and grabbed the hurt one and started to carry him to the store; and that minute the two boys started on the run.