CHAPTER VIII Capture of the Trawler.
A deafening report greeted the coming of Jack and Jim and Bill and his friends through the doorway of the companion which led to their prison. A bullet flicked its path across their faces and buried itself in the bale which had been thrown against the door—then there was a crack. Sailor-like, with an agility of which one would hardly have thought him capable, considering his burliness, Jack had leaped at the German who had fired the shot, and, displaying much science in the manœuvre, undercut him in a manner which astonished not only the marine, but some deck hands standing close beside him. For the German's chin went back, his head was jerked almost from his body, his feet left the deck a moment later, and he measured his length on the steel plates.
It was at that precise instant that Larry seized the falling rifle, and hardly a second later that Bill, coming swiftly after him, launched himself like an arrow in amongst the German deck hands. Jim was there too, following up his strokes, while another party of the sailors had turned sharp right and were sweeping the deck hands on that side of the vessel. As for the second marine on sentry-go, he was dealt with in the most disagreeable and summary manner—that is, disagreeable to himself—for one of the sailors, bobbing up from the companion like a jack-in-the-box, gripped the muzzle of his rifle as he was in the act of firing it, and, extending his other hand, took the German by the nape of his neck and exerted such pressure that the man first let go his weapon, then shouted, and later screamed with pain.
"And you ain't wanted," cried the sailor, lifting him bodily from his feet at last, "not here! So down yer goes!" And down the German went, falling like a bale down the companion and into the depths below, only at that moment cleared of British prisoners.
There, too, the deck hands were hounded within less than five minutes, leaving only the skipper of the trawler on his bridge above, an officer by his side, and the staff of the engine-room.
"Just you carry on, young Bill," cried Jack, seeing that the decks were cleared, and hearing at that moment a crack from a revolver as the skipper opened fire upon them. "This 'ere was your manœuvre; carry it through!"
Bill swung towards Larry with the thought of giving him an order, only to discover the American already stretched flat upon the deck, sheltering behind the mast, his rifle directed on the bridge. Indeed, almost at that same instant his weapon spoke, and the skipper, who by then had emptied his revolver in the direction of the escaping sailors, lifted his arms with a sudden spasmodic movement and fell back behind the canvas screen which crossed the front of the bridge. There, within a short space of time, appeared the face of the other officer, just peering over the screen, his hands raised above his head, calling loudly that he surrendered.
"Send along a party to the engine-room hatch, and order the men up one by one," cried Bill. "Larry, just get up on the bridge and nab that officer. What's doing, Jack? There's a commotion. That was a gun!"