"The very one," he told himself, with a hiss of anger, as he peeped in at the two unconscious men. "See the pup. He sits there chatting as if he had no fear, and as if he expected a Spaniard to forget. But I am not one of those; a blow for a blow, I say. I meant to thrust my knife between his ribs aboard the ship; now I will put lead into him. It will be more certain." His hand went unconsciously to his face, and for a few moments he let his fingers play very gently about his nose, for that was the organ on which Jim's fist had descended with such suddenness and weight. Even now it was decidedly tender, and pained the man as he touched it. That caused his sinister, bright, little eyes to light up fiercely, while the lips curled farther back from his cruel, irregular teeth as the fingers of the other hand fell upon the butt of a revolver tucked into his belt. "A blow for a blow; if not with the knife, then with the bullet. He who strikes a Spaniard must reckon with the consequences, and afterwards--pouff! there will be no afterwards. The bullet will end everything." Slowly he drew the weapon, and pulled the hammer back with his thumb till it clicked into position. "What was that?" asked Jim, hearing the sound distinctly. Even Phineas heard it this time, and stood to his feet. "Perhaps one of the boys is outside; perhaps your Tom, or Sam," he said swiftly. "Certainly there is someone; we'll go and see." He went towards the door, while Jim rose from his chair and moved towards him. It was an opportunity of which the Spaniard took the fullest advantage. "Now or never," he told himself. "If they come out, my chance is gone." He lifted the weapon till it was on a level with his face. Then he directed it through the gauze window at Jim, and, pressing heavily on the trigger, finally released it. Click! An oath escaped him, for the weapon had missed fire, while the two men within the room had already reached the door. He pulled again, till the hammer swung upward. Bang! There was a deafening report, a neat little hole was torn in the gauze, while the leaden messenger he had discharged struck the doorpost, an inch above our hero's head, with a thud which caused him to start. As for the Spaniard, he did not wait to see what success he had had. He turned on his heel and fled down the steps of the veranda, and out into the night. "Gee! A shot! There was someone outside then!" Phineas swung round swiftly to stare at Jim. The latter nodded curtly. "Yes," he agreed. "A shot. There's the bullet." He took the lamp from the table and held it up towards the doorpost. "Just an inch above my head," he smiled. "I heard the thing bang into the woodwork, and felt the wind of the shot. Close, Mr. Phineas!" "But--but who fired it? Why? Where from?"