“No,” he whispered; “if it comes to the worst, and Jarette and his scoundrels are making for here, I shall put the muzzle of my gun to the touch-hole and fire it.”
“Won’t it blow the priming away?” I said.
“No; it will fire the piece instantly.”
“I hope he will not have to try,” I thought to myself as I ran to Walters’ cabin, and told him of the fight to come.
“And I can’t help,” he moaned. “I wish I could.”
“What, to take the ship?” I said spitefully.
“You know better than that,” he said.
I don’t know how it was, but one minute I was saying that to him spitefully, the next I had hold of his hand and shook it.
“I didn’t mean it,” I said quite hurriedly. “Good-bye, old chap; we’re going to whop them after all.”
I ran out of the cabin with the thought in my mind that I might perhaps be killed.