“I dare you,” roared Benson, in his most menacing tone. There was never anything like it. That man’s coolness and nerve would have made him an admiral had he not been a villain. He had a truculent way of talking that made people think twice before acting against him.
The Englishman hesitated at his audacity, and the ship, driving along with every rag a rap-full, went through the gunboat’s lee. I then saw that we would be allowed to pass free, and I knew that the time for action had come. As Benson turned to jump down from the poop-rail on to the deck I was in front of him, and he saw the look in my
“I FORCED HIM BACKWARDS TO THE POOP-RAIL.”
eye that told him plainly what I meant to do. Quick as lightning he drew his revolver and fired slap into me and then sprang to the deck. I felt the numbing stroke of the lead, but felt no pain, and the next instant we had closed.
I seized his weapon by the barrel as he fired again, and, although the bullet cut my wrist, it did not loosen or weaken my hold. Then I drove my knife into him with such force that the blade broke close off at the haft.
Dropping the useless hilt, I gripped him suddenly with both arms about his body, holding his arms to his sides. Then, exerting all my strength, I forced him backwards to the poop-rail. He brought up against it for an instant and wrenched his pistol hand free. Then I hurled him over the side. He clutched frantically at me, but I tore his grip loose, and he fell with a splash into the sea.
Glancing forward, I saw Johnson and a couple of men coming aft at full speed to their leader’s help. Then I saw Brown spring suddenly from behind the mizzen, knock the foremost ruffian headlong into the lee scuppers by a blow from an iron belaying-pin, and close with the rest.
Without stopping an instant to see the outcome of the affair, I dashed for the wheel.
The man there had seen the struggle on the poop, and he met me with drawn knife. But I struck him fairly with my right fist upon the point of the jaw, and he dropped like a log of wood.