"Uncle Jack is dead," declared Sercomb. "How many times do you want me to tell you that?"
"That's still your play, is it?" scoffed Ferral. "Then, between you and me and the capstan, my buck, you lie by the watch!"
A hoarse cry escaped Sercomb. His hand swept under his coat, and when it appeared a bit of steel glimmered in his fist.
"Put up your gun," ordered Ferral. "You took one shot at me with it last night, and if you try it again I'll turn a trick you'll remember."
"Get out of here!" ordered Sercomb. "You can't come into my place and talk to me like that."
He lifted the weapon, the muzzle full upon Ferral. Matt and Carl stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Ferral, and Mings, Packard, and Finn drew nearer to Sercomb.
A tense moment intervened, followed by a quick, pattering footfall. Tippoo glided in and placed himself resolutely between Ferral and the leveled weapon.
"Tippoo!" gasped Sercomb, stepping back and letting the revolver drop at his side.
"Jee!" answered the Hindu.