With a quick move the lad sprang from the bridge and threw himself to the deck on his face. There was another spurt of flame and a bullet whistled over his head. Before the man could fire again, Jack had leaped forward and seized him by his revolver arm. Angrily, the lad wrested the weapon from the man's grasp.
The latter drew a knife. There was but one thing for Jack to do. Quickly he raised his revolver, pointed it squarely at the German's face, and fired.
A flash of flame had betrayed the hiding place of the last German on deck. Two of the British rushed for him. The German accounted for both of them before they could reach him.
The losses so far, had been two British and four of the enemy. There were still six British on deck and a single German; but seven Teutons were still hammering at the door of the engine room in an effort to get at Harris.
"We've got to get rid of this fellow on deck," muttered Frank. He spoke to one of the men near him.
"You advance from one side and I'll advance from the other," said the lad quietly. "The man, apparently, is a dead shot and he probably will get one of us. But he's dangerous there. He may fire at you and he may fire at me, but the other will get him."
The man nodded that he understood, and one from each side of the bridge they advanced.
As it transpired it was not Frank who was to pay the penalty for this
rash advance. Perceiving two men approaching, one from either side, the
German fired. Quickly, Frank raised his revolver and also fired. The
German threw up his arms and fell to the deck.
Frank turned quickly and looked for the man who had left the shelter of the bridge with him. He lay prone on the deck.
"Poor fellow," said Frank. "Yet it had to be done. Just luck that it wasn't me."