“Back with you!” ordered Darrin, whipping out his revolver and menacing the frightened servants.
“If the word to start killing is given it will really come from you, Mr. Sin Foo,” Dave warned the secretary sternly, “and you will be one of the first men to drop dead.”
Dave’s foot was now posted where it would obstruct the closing of the door, even if attempted.
“Here we are, sir,” panted a sailor, darting up with a machine gun and its crew.
“Train your gun to cover this corridor,” Dave ordered, tersely.
The gun captain posted the machine gun so that its nose pointed at the squad of Chinese.
“Withdraw those soldiers, Mr. Sin Foo!” briefly commanded Ensign Darrin.
“What?” gasped the thunderstruck under secretary. “You presume to give orders in the governor’s very residence?”
“I don’t intend to argue,” Dave retorted, as another of the “Castoga’s” guns spoke from the river. “If you don’t run your soldiers out of this corridor, then the janitor will have them to sweep out, for I’m going to order the machine gun into action mighty soon!”
Sin Foo looked puzzled, but soon he spoke to the soldiers, who, scowling, wheeled and marched back down the stone-flagged corridor, vanishing around an angle of the wall.