The time had come for decisive action. Drunk as he was, Travers would sooner or later break down the door, and then there would be trouble.
Grit seized an old pistol which lay on the mantel-piece. It had long been disused, and was so rusty that it was very doubtful whether any use could have been made of it. Still it presented a formidable appearance, as the young boatman pointed it at Travers.
"Stop pounding that door, or I fire!" Grit exclaimed, in a commanding tone.
Travers turned quickly at the word, and as he saw the rusty weapon pointed at him, his small stock of courage left him, and he turned pale, for he was a coward at heart.
"For the Lord's sake, don't fire!" he cried hastily.
CHAPTER XIX. TRAVERS PICKS UP A FRIEND.
Travers looked the picture of fright as he beheld the rusty pistol which Grit pointed at him.
"Don't fire, for the Lord's sake!" he repeated, in alarm.