While the American racked his brains in vain to find an expedient that would enable him to gain the advantage, a bullet dashed the rifle he held in his hand to pieces.
"Accursed dog!" he yelled in his fury, "do you wish to assassinate me?"
"I should have a right to do so," the Canadian replied, "for I am only defending myself fairly, after your attempt to kill me; but I prefer dealing amicably with you, although I feel convinced I should be doing a great service to humanity by lodging a couple of slugs in your brain."
And a second bullet at this moment smashed the rifle one of the servants was reloading.
"Come, enough of this," the American shouted, greatly exasperated; "what do you want?"
"I told you—treat amicably with you."
"But on what conditions? Tell me them at least."
"In a moment."
The rifle of the second servant was broken like that of the first: of the five men, three were now disarmed.
"Curses," the slave-dealer howled; "have you resolved to make a target of us in turn?"