Girdwood could not rest easy with Jack a prisoner, of course.
He had sneaked up as near as it was safe to come.
Hidden behind the angle of the castle wall, he could both see and hear all that was passing.
“If they find the gold up-stairs, it will drive them so wild that they will kill Jack sure,” he thought. “I must act, even if I risk my own life.”
Harry had two revolvers with him.
They were splendid six-shooters, such as the Arabs had never seen.
“I believe I can down them just with the noise,” he thought. “Anyhow I’ll try it, for they’ll never consent to let Jack go out of their sight.”
So Harry gathered himself up and prepared to act.
Watching his chance when the confab of the noisy Arabs was at its height, he suddenly leaped in among them, a revolver in each hand, firing shot after shot in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs.
He could not have tried a better plan.