they have that door covered

  Torrance received them with a burst of joy, shaking each by hand in turn, scarce knowing what he was doing.   "Keep an eye on Tressa," he cried, and made for the front door.   Mahon grabbed him. "Here, they have that door covered. Conrad will be all right. Anyway, it's throwing yourself away searching for him now."   "Conrad!" The contractor's bull voice was full of disgust. "Conrad to hell! It's the trestle."   Mahon swung him away with a rougher thrust than was necessary. "Damn the trestle! It's life we have to think of first."   "But it's the trestle they want. They're only keeping us in here--"   "Do as you're told. I'm in charge."   A rifle shot split the silence without. There followed a sharp cry of pain and a fusillade from the trees beyond the grade. The Indian was in action.   "Praise be!" chortled Murphy. "Somebody got it where it hurts. That Indian, he's a man afther me own hear-rt. Oh, mother, for me shillalah about the heads o' thim!"   Ten minutes of complete silence--fifteen. Murphy's impatience was becoming vociferous; he began to be jealous of Huggins up there with Mollie, with a fight at hand any time he wanted it. Torrance was scarcely less clamorous.