“We’ll get out,” was Chick’s calm answer. “Still, if you care to save your life by helping us, perhaps Mr. Arnold would be willing to give you a chance.”
Chick winked at Jefferson Arnold over Pike’s head, and the millionaire took his cue at once.
“I might consider that,” he remarked casually. “Although my only intention was to give Pike up to the authorities here and have him punished. He says he is at the head of the war department of this country. Perhaps he is. But evidently he does not know that we are honored guests of the great Calaman.”
The look on Pike’s face assured Jefferson that he was on the right tack, and he continued:
“We have come at Calaman’s invitation to show him how our guns are used, and it will mean that we can command the whole war department if we choose, because we shall teach the people of Bolongu how to use weapons that have been strange to them heretofore.”
“That’s nothing,” sneered William Pike. “I showed them my gun weeks ago, and they decided it was no good.”
“Perhaps it was you who were no good,” retorted Chick. “Calaman admits that he had seen a trial of a rifle before we showed it to him, and that the white man who did it was unable to prove that it was superior to spears and bows and arrows.”
“If that were so,” rejoined Pike, “it would not prove that you could do any better.”
“Look out of the window and see for yourself,” advised Chick.
He had been watching the proceedings of Nick Carter in the public square while talking, and now chose a particular moment to let Pike look out.