"Now will you head for the beach?"
This from George, and I found myself looking into the muzzle of his
revolver--of the revolver he dared to use on me, but was too
cowardly to use on the prisoners.
My brain seemed smitten with a dazzling brightness. The whole
situation, in all its bearings, was focussed sharply before me--the
shame of losing the prisoners, the worthlessness and cowardice of
George, the meeting with Le Grant and the other patrol men and the
lame explanation; and then there was the fight I had fought so
hard, victory wrenched from me just as I thought I had it within my
grasp. And out of the tail of my eye I could see the Chinese
crowding together by the cabin doors and leering triumphantly. It
would never do.
I threw my hand up and my head down. The first act elevated the
muzzle, and the second removed my head from the path of the bullet
which went whistling past. One hand closed on George's wrist, the
other on the revolver. Yellow Handkerchief and his gang sprang
toward me.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29