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"We'll circle about and one of us can get him." Lord Hastings, wounded, was left behind the chimney, while Frank, who had produced another revolver, leaped out suddenly to the left, Jack at the same time springing to the right. Then they moved forward. "Hold on," came Blosberg's voice at this moment. "I surrender." The three friends breathed easier.
It leaped in the air like a live thing and the lad felt a strange sensation in his hand. He wiggled his fingers, but now he was unable to tell whether he had a right hand or not. There was no feeling there. Blosberg's bullet had struck the lad's revolver and the shock had numbed the lad's hand.
He saw Blosberg's twisting, tumbling body crash head-first upon the hard walk, and then lay still. Frank and Lord Hastings also came quickly forward and peered over the edge of the roof. Jack wiped beads of perspiration from his face; then turned and lifted his hat. "That," he said quietly, "took nerve; for he must have known he would be killed."
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