Leonard clapped his right hand to his left shoulder.
Shirley noticed this move.
“What’s the matter?” she asked anxiously. “Are you hit?”
“Just a scratch, I guess,” replied Leonard quietly. “We’ll make them pay for that.”
“We will,” agreed Shirley through clenched teeth.
CHAPTER XIX.—DEFEAT.
“Look out! He’s going to shoot again,” cried one of the officers. “Down, quick!”
Jones was standing aft in the launch and had levelled his revolver in deliberate aim. But before he could pull the trigger, there was an unexpected move in the boat.
The third member of the party of conspirators—the young man whose face was so strangely familiar to Shirley—suddenly sprang to his feet, and before Jones could realize his intention, had wrested the revolver from his hand with a quick move. Jones turned upon him angrily, and they grappled.
For several moments they swayed unsteadily in the boat, causing it to rock violently; and then Jones, putting forth a strenuous effort, sent his opponent hurling overboard and by another and more strenuous effort, succeeded in regaining his own balance just as it seemed that he, too, must tumble into the water.