Bob cried.

Quinn shrugged.

"A bullet grazed my head. Get ready for them. Never mind me."

He tied a bandanna over the wound while the young man arranged on the
bunk cutlases, their spare pistol, and the musket.

Slack was the first of the enemy to appear. He carried with him a white
napkin for a flag. Ostensibly he had come to find out the cause of this
outbreak, really to learn how well prepared the defenders were.

Cap Nat sent him to the right about briskly. "Get out, traitor! Step
lively now, or I'll pepper you!"

From his breast Slack whipped a pistol and fired at the bald head of the
old buccaneer. A shot from Wallace rang-out in answer. Slack ran for
cover, but at the stairs waved a derisive gesture.

For half an hour everything was quiet. Then came the sound of stealthy
whispers and softly padding feet.

Quinn swung his cutlas to test it.

"Stand by for a rush. They're coming," he said.

Almost before he had finished speaking feet pattered swiftly along the
deck. The night was suddenly broken with shouts and curses. The stars
that had been shining through the window were blotted out with smoke.

The door crashed in and men poured pell-mell through the opening. The
details of what followed were always blurred into a medley of carnage in
the mind of Wallace. He knew that both he and Quinn fired, and that the
cabin filled with smoke.

Fierce arms gripped him. He hacked into the smoke with his knife. Twice
bodies thudded to the floor. A cutlas slashed his left arm. He was
dragged from the cabin to the open deck and found himself struggling
with a red-bearded giant who tossed him about as if he had been a child.

The fellow had a knife in his belt which he was trying to draw. Robert
fought to the last ounce of strength in him to prevent this. But the
sailor was too strong for him. Inch by inch he went down. The other's
knee drove into his chest, his sinewy hand closed on the lad's throat.
Wallace saw the knife flash and for the moment lost his senses.

When his eyes opened again the vise at his throat had withdrawn, the
knee on his chest was relaxing. The giant was dropping like a log. Above
him stood Quinn, a ghastly sight, in his hand a streaming cutlas.

Wallace rose and looked about him. Two men lay huddled in the cabin, a
third was staggering away with both hands clapped to his head. The giant
made four, the cook five. This left only Captain Slack against them.

"By Heaven, we've beat them,"