Down him!"
"Guess which way I'm going to heave this stone!" cried Jack, tauntingly,
as he half wheeled, so as to watch those trying to steal a march in
his rear.
"Bosh! You can soon stop that, men!" jeered Millard, suddenly. "Fall
back and get a fistful of stones. Rain them in on the youngster at a
safe distance. One of you will soon hit him and send him down!"
Young Benson gasped inwardly with dismay, though his face did not
blanch. Millard's followers drew back to obey.
Yes! These fellows could throw small stones from a much greater distance
than the young lieutenant could hurl the large one. They had but to
keep up this fire for a few seconds when one of them was certain to hit
him in the head, putting him out of the fight.
Jack Benson dropped the big stone, though he stood over it. Like a
flash his revolver came out again. Aiming at Millard, the young naval
officer made frantic efforts to make the cylinder revolve. But the
weapon proved to be hopelessly jammed.
"Now, keep on volleying the youngster with until you have him down and
wholly out!" yelled Millard, hoarsely.
The air seemed filled with stones.
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