I looked through the port-hole and said, 'A crowd of men waiting.'
'We'll have to make a dash for it, I fancy,' he replied cheerfully,
though his face was covered with blood and his breath was coming in
short gasps.
'Get down the bars and be ready.' But even as he spoke a chair hurled
from below caught him on the arm, and before he could recover, a man had
cleared the barricade and was upon him like a tiger. It was Idaho Jack.
'Hold the barricade,' Graeme called out, as they both went down.
I sprang to his place, but I had not much hope of holding it long. I had
the heavy oak bar of the door in my hands, and swinging it round my head
I made the crowd give back for a few moments.
Meantime Graeme had shaken off his enemy, who was circling about him
upon his tip-toes, with a long knife in his hand, waiting for a chance
to spring.
'I have been waiting for this for some time, Mr. Graeme,' he said
smiling.
'Yes,' replied Graeme, 'ever since I spoiled your cut-throat game in
'Frisco. How is the little one?' he added sarcastically.
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