“I’m all right!” yelled Mr Preddle, securing the hatch again.
“Where’s Mr Brymer?”
“Here, help!” came from somewhere forward, and as I struggled up I had a faint view of Mr Frewen and Hampton rushing forward and bringing back a couple more men with pistols held to their heads. I saw that, for the light from the swinging lanterns gleamed upon the barrels.
These two men were thrown down, and one more shot came crashing up, but without hurting any one, and then a familiar voice said—
“Here’s another!” and Dumlow staggered up, pushing a sailor before him.
“You’ll pay for this night’s work when the noo—”
He said no more, for he received a heavy blow in the mouth, and then kicking and struggling with rage, he too was thrown down.
“How many more?” panted Mr Frewen.
“There’s three on ’em forward,” growled Bob Hampton. “The look-out man and two more.”
“Pistols!” cried Mr Frewen, loudly, and then as there was a sharp clicking from mine as well as three others, he shouted—“Now, you men, surrender, or we fire!”