“Fire away, my lad!” was the reply. “You will not hurt us.”
Bob applied the muzzles of both pistols to the lock, and pulled the triggers. Fortunately, the lock was not a particularly strong one; and a supplementary kick sent the door flying open.
Captain Staunton and Lance at once emerged from their dark noisome prison and glanced eagerly around them.
“Thank you, Robert,” hurriedly exclaimed the skipper. “There is no time to say more now, I know; so tell us what we are to do, my lad, and we’ll do it.”
Bob pointed to the prostrate bodies of the two pirates and said:
“Take their arms, and then we must make a rush to the landing; this firing is sure to have raised an alarm, but it could not be helped. But how is this! Where are your manacles!”
“Slipped them off, my lad, the moment we heard your voice,” answered the skipper. “Price—fine fellow that he is—managed that for us by putting us in irons several sizes too large for us. Now, Evelin, are you ready! I fancy I hear footsteps running this way.”
“All ready!” said Lance.
“Then, off we go!” exclaimed Bob. “This way, gentlemen—sharp round to the right for a couple of hundred yards, and then straight for the landing. It will give us a better chance if the pirates suspect anything and place themselves to cut us off.”
Away went the trio at racing-pace, Bob slightly taking the lead and striking sharply away to the right. It was well for them that they did so, as they were thus enabled to dodge a crowd of men who came excitedly running up from the landing on hearing the pistol-shots.