“It is Cabot the Minorian!” one of them shouted.
The situation was ticklish in the extreme. The Cupians were scattered throughout the room, so that it was impossible for Myles to cover them all simultaneously with his rifle. They were desperate characters, thugs of the worst type, typical henchmen of Prince Yuri. If they started any trouble, Myles could expect to get one, or at most two, of the seven before the rest would get him. Furthermore, they knew it.
“Back up, all of you, into that corner! Quickly!” he directed.
But they did not budge. Gradually smiles began to break over their ugly visages. They realized that they had him at bay, rather than he them. And what a prize he would be for presentation to King Yuri! Why, the king might even blow them to a beefsteak party.
The earth-man confronted them, unafraid. He still had the drop on them, and he intended to press his advantage to the limit.
“You fat one over by the rack, back into the corner,” he ordered, “or I’ll shoot you first.”
The Cupian addressed obeyed with alacrity.
“You with the scar! Lay down your gun! Now you back into the corner!”
The second soldier did so. Things were progressing nicely. One by one he could subdue the Cupians confronting him. But, just as he was exulting in his triumph, his gun was seized from behind. Turning, he saw Number One leering at him.
One blow from his fist in that leering face and the newcomer crashed to the floor. But before Myles could wheel to confront those in the guardroom, they had rushed him and borne him to the ground.