Jeff’s hand was quietly coming down.
“It’s stuck!” Larry began to tug, with his hand in his inside pocket where he pretended the jewels were.
“No monkey shines!” warned the stranger, watching closely.
Jeff’s hand flashed down, the wrench, with a twisting, underhand fling, spun through the air. Jeff dropped into the cockpit. The wrench struck, hitting the man’s arm and deflecting the muzzle of his weapon as it exploded—but he did not drop it.
In that split minute of time Larry was on the cockpit seat—and plunged, in a swift, slantwise leap, down upon the man in the dory.
His unexpected assault was executed so rapidly that the man had not time to recover from the surprise and get his weapon trained, before Larry was on him, sending him sprawling backward.
“Oh—my shoulder!” the man cried out in sudden anguish.
Larry, startled, seeing the pain in the face just under his own, relaxed for an instant, only being sure that his quick grip on the wrist holding the weapon in its hand was not released.
“Oh!” the man groaned, and dropping his weapon, he began to nurse his shoulder.
Larry suspected some trick, but there was none. The man tamely surrendered. As he nursed his painful muscles, a sudden misgiving came over Larry.