moved back, so that in facing me Oliver would be behind him.
"Will you do your duty on deck?"
"I am always ready to do my duty, Captain Marcale."
"Bah! You Americanos know nothing. You must learn how to obey."
"Don't you think you are a little hard on us, captain?" I pleaded. "Just look at that arm. Do you think I can work with such a sore as that?"
I began to roll up my coat sleeve. Thrown off his guard by my manner, the Spaniard drew closer, at the same time lowering his weapon to his side.
The movement was fatal to his hopes, for Oliver had suddenly leaped up. Now he sprang forward, carrying over his head one of the boxes of canned goods. Down came the box with crushing force, and Captain Marcale dropped as if hit with a sand-bag.
"Good for you!" I cried. "I only hope you haven't killed him."
"If I have it is no more than such a brute deserves," returned my chum. "Here, take the marline spike and I will search him." He began to go through pocket after pocket. "Just what I thought—here is a six-shooter, and every chamber loaded."
