"One minute gone!"
For a second or two the filibusterer hesitated, but the odds were even, twelve against twelve. Well he knew that the Americans could shoot quicker and straighter than his men, who were an undisciplined lot. He realized, also, that he would be the first to fall.
Scowling, he gave the order to retreat, amid the open murmurs of his men, who, under Bolshevist rule, considered themselves the equals of their officers.
The instant that they were embarked, the "Wizard" turned to Jim.
"We haven't many minutes to lose! That hound will open up with the gun, as soon as he reports on board.
"Get to the house as quick as you can. Rush Miss Evans and all the office crowd into No. 2 gravel pit, pronto! Shells can't reach them there."
"I'll tell the engineer to whistle to Anton. Then I'll close down the works and get the men into shelter. But we've got to act lively!"
Crisply he gave his orders to the waiting men, several of whom were grumbling because they had not been allowed to "clean up the gang" as one of them phrased it. They brightened up, however, at the prospect that there would be a fight.
Half a minute later, the whistle sent out a succession of sharp blasts, and, almost simultaneously, there came the sharp crackle of wireless from the station on the hill.
A volume of Russian curses was heard coming over the water at this sound, and the rowers redoubled their efforts.