They stood there with eyes distended, while Blythe, grimly erect, faced them as motionless as a statue.
"Gawd, I've 'ad enough," the cook gasped, and got his fat bulk to the stairway with incredible swiftness.
The others were at his heel, fighting for the first chance down.
A bullet clipped the deck in front of me. I looked up hastily to see Bothwell's malevolent face in the wheelhouse window.
"Turn about, Mr. Sedgwick," he jeered, and let fly again.
Half dragging him with me, I got Yeager into the shadow.
"Got a revolver?" I whispered.
"Yes." He felt for it in the darkness. "Damn! I must 'a dropped it when Bothwell hit me over the coconut."
"Are you good for a run to the saloon? He'll pick us off just as soon as the moon comes out from behind that cloud."
A bullet took a splinter from the rail beside me.