“Don’t do that, Patsy!” commanded Nick. “You’ll be almost sure to get Chick. Come on! Hand to hand!”
“That’s what!” bawled Jefferson Arnold. “Hand to hand! Where’s Leslie!”
There was no response to this last question, but Jefferson sailed in with his rifle swinging like a club, and cleared a wide space on the drawbridge in an instant.
Jai Singh was wielding his terrible spear, and man after man of the Bolongus went down before his onslaught.
Then there was a countercharge, and the little party retreated, fighting desperately, until they were almost out of the light of the torches.
Nick Carter raised his voice excitedly.
“Forward again!” he shouted. “They’re holding Chick! We must get him, whatever happens! At them, boys!”
The great detective usually preserved his coolness under any and all circumstances. But now, when he saw his beloved assistant in the hands of these ruthless mountain men, and realized that only torture and a horrible death could be his end if he were not rescued, he let himself go completely, and became only the warrior who would neither give nor receive quarter.
It was Nick Carter who dashed upon the drawbridge again first. Close at his elbow was Patsy Garvan, with Jai Singh, Adil, and Jefferson Arnold supporting him.