The men below did not hear him, but Yorke did; and as he had expected, the seaman turned his head. As he looked full into the huge muzzle, Yorke's twisted, ever-leering face went pasty white and he submitted to Bob's relieving him of his rifle without a word.
"Hands up, Yorke!" commanded Mart, still softly. "Bob, get his revolver."
Bob obeyed, and still Yorke stared into the muzzle of the elephant gun with fear-stricken eyes and a ghastly pallor on his face, as he reached for the sky.
"Now get down on the landing," ordered Mart, and with that shifted his gun over the rail so that it pointed straight at the three men below. So far, they had heard nothing. Mart knew that he might be endangering Jerry's life, but he did not hesitate, and jerked his head for Bob to follow Yorke, who had started down the ladder.
"Get after him and take their guns, Bob."
The other boy obeyed, entering at once into Mart's plan. Yorke, paralyzed with fear, kept his hands in the air as he descended, and when his shadow fell across the landing, Dailey was the first to glance up in surprise.
"Hands up, you men!" commanded Mart sternly, though he felt a quiver in his throat. Would they call the bluff of that empty gun? "Quick about it, there!"
Into the one-eyed face of Birch flashed an evil anger mixed with fear; Dailey promptly stuck up his hands, as did Borden, who still clung to the lines, but Birch only continued pumping, though he looked up fearfully.
"I ain't a-goin' back on Jerry," he growled.
Mart read indecision in his tone, however. He knew that Jerry would be in no danger from a momentary cessation of pumping, just as he would be in no danger were his air hose to break, as the helmet valve would in that case close automatically and Jerry would have enough air left in his dress to last him for some minutes.