The fighting was now spread over the decks of both vessels, which were hooked together tightly and pounding broadside at every swell of the ocean. To attempt to blow up either ship would have been fatal probably to both—one dragging down the other—so no such attempt was made.
While the fighting was at its height, Larry suddenly found himself face to face with a Russian lieutenant of marines. The fellow had a pistol in his hand, and as Larry raised his cutlass to strike, he dropped the weapon on a level with the youth's head and pulled the trigger.
Had the bullet sped as intended it is likely Larry would have been killed. But just as the trigger fell, Luke, who was at Larry's side, knocked the pistol to one side with his cutlass and the bullet merely grazed Larry's hair. Then Larry leaped forward and gave the Russian lieutenant a thrust in the side which put the fellow out of the fight instantly.
For fully fifteen minutes the battle had now raged and it was growing hotter each instant. All of the available men on each ship were in the fray, and the cries and yells which resounded were deafening.
"We certainly can't keep this fight up much longer!" panted Larry. He had a cut on his left hand and one in the shoulder, but kept on with dogged determination.
"Well, we ain't goin' to surrender!" grunted Luke. "It's fight or die, I guess!" And he leaped forward once more.
Two tall Russians were directly in front of the old Yankee gunner, and both fell upon him with their cutlasses at the same instant. Luke was capable of warding off the weapon of one, but he was no match for the pair, and it speedily looked as if they would surely kill him.
"Back with ye!" he yelled, and swung his cutlass as rapidly as he could, but they crowded him still closer and then one made a thrust at his face and another at his body.
It was at this critical moment that Larry, who had been engaged with somebody else, saw his old war chum's predicament. With a leap he gained Luke's side, and down came his cutlass with a sweeping blow on the wrist of one of the enemy. The Russian dropped his cutlass to the deck and staggered back, his hand almost severed from his arm. Then Luke slashed the other Russian across the cheek, and both of the enemy hurried back behind the other fighters.
"Good fer you, Larry!" panted Luke, when he could speak. "They had me about cornered!"