Five
boys now climbed up. Archie belabored the first
one with the pole and Tod grappled with the second,
trying to throw him from the rail to the sand, some
ten feet below, but the rat close behind him, in spite
of their efforts, reached forward, caught the rail,
and scrambled up to his mate's assistance. In another
instant both had leaped to the sloop's deck.
"Back! back! Run, Toddy!" screamed Archie,
waving his arms. "Get on the poop-deck; we can
lick them there. Run!"
Tod darted back, and the two defenders clearing
the intervening rotten timbers with a bound, sprang
upon the roof of the old cabin--Archie's "poop."
With a whoop the savages followed, jumping over
the holes in the planking and avoiding the nails in
the open beams.
In the melee Archie had lost his pole, and was
now standing, hat off, his blue eves flashing, all the
blood of his overheated little body blazing in his face.
The tears of defeat were trembling under his eyelids,
He had been outnumbered, but he would die
game. In his hand he carried, unconsciously to
himself, the big-bladed pocket knife the captain had
given him. He would as soon have used it on his
mother as upon one of his enemies, but the Barnegat
invaders were ignorant of that fact, knives being the
last resort in their environment.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244