One of them took a step
forward in reluctant obedience, but the other grabbed his arm and pulled
him away. They turned to run, and an automatic cracked.
The man nearest Ross gave a queer little cough and folded forward to his
knees, sprawling on his face. His companion stared at him wildly for an
instant, and then skidded into the passage beyond, escaping by inches a
shot which clipped the door as he lunged through it.
No one followed, for outside there was a crescendo of noise--shouting,
cries of pain, an unidentifiable hissing. Ashe darted into the room,
taking cover by the body. Then he came back, the fellow's gun in his
hand, and with a jerk of his head summoned the other two. He motioned
them on in a direction away from the sounds of battle.
"I don't get all this," McNeil commented as they reached the next
passage. "What's going on? Mutiny? Or have our boys gotten through?"
"It must be the ship people," Ross answered.
"What ship?" Ashe caught him up swiftly.
"The big one the Reds have been looting----"
"Ship?" echoed McNeil.
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