“Pardon me,” said Frank, stung by this ungracious treatment; “it is my turn now.”
Quickly steadying the lamp, he directed the light on the other’s face, revealing a pair of fierce black eyes, and a face thickly bearded.
“Stop that, or I’ll—” He put his hand to his pocket with a threatening action.
“Leave him alone, Captain. Upon my word, he has served you well in your own coin;” and the other man stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on Frank’s shoulder, whereat the latter, finding he was in queer company, stepped back.
“Don’t start, sir; there is nothing to fear.”
“I think there is,” said Frank; “so please keep your distance, or, better still, stand aside, as I should like to get out of this.”
“Of course you would, but—and I hate to tell you after what you have done—we can’t afford to let you go.”
“Afford, that’s not the word. We won’t let you go, mate.”
“I’ll see about that,” shouted Frank, at the same time hurling one man aside, and, seizing the handle, which came off to his furious tug, leaving the door still fast closed. Turning, he hurled the brass knob at the black-bearded man, but it missed the mark, and went with a crash through a glass door beyond.
Next moment he was looking into the dark muzzle of a revolver, held very straight in the brawny hand of the Captain, whose black eyes wore a very ugly look.