I shoved Jetta back and rushed to the broken window oval. The figures of De Boer and his men showed in the moonlight across the patio. They had heard me breaking the glassite. And they saw me, now. "There he is, De Boer!" We were trapped! CHAPTER X _The Murder in the Garden_ "Hans, keep back! I will go!" "But Commander--" "Armed? The hell he is not! Spawn said no. Spawn! Where is Spawn? He was here." I had dropped back from the window, and, gripping Jetta, stood in the center of the room. "Jetta, dear." "Oh. Philip!" "There's no other way out of here?" "No! No!" Only the heavy sealed door, and this broken window. The bandits in the garden had paused at sight of me. Someone had called. "He may be armed, De Boer." They had stopped their forward rush and darted into the shelter of the pergola. I might be armed! We could hear their low voices not ten feet from us. But I was not armed, except for my knife. Futile weapon, indeed. "Jetta, keep back. If they should fire--" * * * * * I got a look through the oval. De Boer was advancing upon it, with his barreled projector half levelled. He saw me again. He called: "You American, come out!" I crouched on the floor, pushing Jetta back to where the shadows of the bed hid her. "You American!" He was close outside the window. "Come out--or I am coming in!" I said abruptly, "Come!" My blade was in my hand. If he showed himself I could slash his throat, doubtless. But what about Jetta? My thoughts flashed upon the heels of my defiant invitation. Suppose, as De Boer climbed in the window, I killed him? I could not escape, and his infuriated fellows would rush us, firing through the oval, sweeping the room, killing us both. But Jetta now was in no danger. Her father was outside, and these bandits were her father's friends. I would have to yield. I called, louder, "Why don't you come in?" Could I hold them off? Frighten them off, for a time, and make enough noise so that perhaps someone passing in the nearby street would give the alarm and bring help? There was a sudden silence in the patio. The bandits had so far made as little commotion as possible. Presently I could hear their low voices. * * * * * I heard an oath. De Boer's head and shoulders appeared in the window oval! His levelled projector came through. Perhaps he would not have fired, but I did not dare take the chance. I was crouching almost under the muzzle, so I straightened, gripped it, and flung it up. I then slashed at his face with my knife, but he gripped my wrist with powerful fingers. My knife fell as he twisted my wrist. His projector had not fired. It was jammed between us. One of his huge arms reached in and encircled me. "Damn you!" He muttered it, but I shouted, "Fool! De Boer, the bandit!" I was aware of a commotion out in the garden. "... Bring all Nareda on our ears? De Boer, shut him up!"