"An hour?" thought Madden. "That's time enough for us all to be killed."
Caradoc said to the mate: "Go forward and tell the men to arm themselves, then take position along the rail to repel boarders. Tell them to look sharp for grappling hooks and throw them down."
"And what will they arm with, sir?"
"Use anything you can find, hand spikes, knives, sticks. They might throw lumps of coal. A cricket player ought to give a good account with a lump of coal."
"Very well, sir," grunted Malone and he hurried down on deck.
A few minutes later the men were scurrying around to their positions. One or two men had gone down for a sack of coal, a queer ammunition that might possibly effect something. On the other hand, Leonard knew the attacking force would come armed with mausers, rapid fire guns, grappling hooks, swords. A onesided fight was brewing.
The American looked anxiously at the funnel; a ribbon of black smoke filtered out into the air.
"Madden," said Caradoc, "they will make the hardest fight around the anchor ports and amidships. Which position do you prefer to defend?"
"I believe I'll take the forecastle."
"Good, I wish you luck."