“Never mind the butting; leave that to the pirates. Let them come and butt their heads against our wharf. Here, I’m captain of the good ship Lynn Brothers, and you’re only lieutenant, so obey orders.—It’s all right, gentlemen,” he continued coolly and pleasantly the next moment to the little crowd of his people who had hurried out and were waiting for their orders; “the enemy are coming, just when it seemed as if, after all our preparations, they had got wind of what was waiting for them and had made up their minds to disappoint us.”
He was interrupted here by a loud cheer, in which the Chinese employees joined with a peculiar yell, which did not improve the heartiness of the cheer, but gave it a fierce, rasping, savage tone.
But it evidently meant business, all the same, and altogether seemed to thrill Stan from top to toe and make him feel, as he put it to himself, in better heart.
“That sounds right,” said Blunt as the cheers died out into what was a series of vocal Chinese exclamations. “Now listen; we’ve got a sharp fight before us, in which we are going to show those savage scoundrels that they have made the greatest mistake they ever made in their lives.”
There was another cheer at this, one in which Stan found himself joining and waving his cap, just as if it were at home and the cheering had something to do with a football victory.
“Now,” continued Blunt, “I reckon that we have two hours of waiting to do before the music begins to play, so we’ll spend part of the time in enjoying the breakfast I have ordered to be ready for every one here. In the name, then, of our employers’ son and nephew, I ask you to come and breakfast with him—all but you two gentlemen up yonder. You must stay and continue your lookout, but my Chinese servants will bring you up all you want.”
There was another cheer at this—one that threatened to be terribly prolonged—but Blunt held up his hand.
“That will do for the present; keep the rest of the shouts till we have driven off the enemy. Now then, pile arms and file in to breakfast. No ceremony; we must all be equal over this meal, as we shall be when we are fighting the enemy.”
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” came in chorus, and the men began to flock in.
“Stop a minute,” cried Stan excitedly, catching at his captain’s arm.