“You will take charge of this prisoner and be responsible for him. You will be prompt to shoot him if he tries to escape.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Dave Darrin turned to lift his cap to the ladies, but started, turned, gasped.
In an instant such a din had arisen as he would once have believed could come only from the infernal regions.
From all four sides at once came the angry yells of thousands of men, mingled with thousands of detonations. The crashing racket of numberless gongs made the night still more hideous. The storm of noise was ear-splitting, nerve-racking.
Believing the south wall to be the place most in danger, Dave rushed across the compound in that direction.
[CHAPTER XI—A SURPRISE PARTY FOR THE GOVERNOR]
“It’s Chinese war—real Chinese war!” roared Danny Grin in his chum’s ear, as he pointed down at the packed throng in the open beyond the compound. “The heathen are beating gongs, ringing cowbells, shooting off firecrackers and yelling like wild-cats—just as the Chinese did in battle a thousand years ago. They’re trying to scare us to death with their racket.”
“It’s awful to turn a machine gun loose on a tightly packed crowd like that,” shivered Dave, “but you’ve got to do it. Turn it loose, Dan, and keep it going. I leave you in charge at this point.”
Dave ran around the rampart to the western side. As he hastened he grinned at the Chinese idea that noise can play any big part in winning a battle. Yet even Darrin admitted that the din was abominable enough to shake the strongest nerves.