They were yet on their knees, with their heads under the shelf,
and I heard the slight grating made by the tool that Ingra's assistant
was using. The pistol was in my hand. What should I do? Shoot him down
without warning, or trust to the strength of Juba to enable us to
overcome them both and make them prisoners?
While I hesitated, and it was but a moment, Ingra suddenly rose to his
feet and confronted us. An exclamation burst from his lips, and the other
sprang up. I covered Ingra with the pistol and pulled the trigger. There
was not a sound! The sickening remembrance then burst over me that I had
not reloaded the pistol since Edmund had emptied its whole chamber in the
closing fight with the tarantula of the swamps. Ingra, followed by his
man, sprang upon me like a tiger. In a twinkling I lay on my back, and
before I could recover my feet, I saw Juba and Ingra in a deadly
struggle, while the other ran away and disappeared. Jumping up I ran to
Juba's assistance, but the fight was so furious, and the combatants
whirled so rapidly, that I could get no hold. I saw, however, that Juba
was more than a match for his opponent, and I darted into the car to get
one of the automatic rifles, thinking that I could use it as a club to
put an end to the struggle if the opportunity should offer.
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