"Hi! Melchard!" he cried.
Melchard started, stopped, and looked anxiously round.
"Never heard the voice before? You'll hear it often, and lots of it, soon, Melchard. Pull out your gun."
The man in the road made no attempt to obey. From Mut-mut's revolver Dick sent a bullet which threw up the dust at Melchard's feet.
"Two inches to the right of your feet."
He fired again. Again the little puff of dust.
"An inch and a half to the left of your feet," he sang out cheerfully. "The next'll be half-way between and three feet higher. Put down your gun."
Melchard produced his automatic and dropped it.
"Kick it away from you."
Melchard obeyed, and his weapon lay three yards out of reach.