Louis was prudent, though he had acted as quick as a flash. His bullet sped on its way before Flounder could realize what he was doing. One of the lessons he had taken at the shooting gallery had prepared him for just the practice he needed, to save himself. He had not intended to kill or mortally wound his opponent. All he desired was to save himself, and he had done so by disabling the ruffian. As the revolver dropped upon the ground, Bickling sprang to his feet. He saw Louis; he also saw the weapon where it had fallen, and he picked it up. Evidently Flounder was suffering a good deal of pain, judging from the expression on his face. He seemed to be sort of dazed by the suddenness of his opponent’s action, as well as by his injury. Bickling ran towards Louis. He was as white as a sheet, frightened half out of his senses, though he did not seem to be otherwise injured. He tendered the revolver he had picked up to his deliverer, who put it in his left hip-pocket. At the same moment, the ruffian, conscious that he was utterly defeated by that single shot, started to move away from the others. The battle among the pines seemed to satisfy him. But the victor was not disposed to allow him to escape in that direction. He did not yet understand the situation, and had no idea what had caused him to fall upon such an innocent and pluckless person as the cook. “Stop, Flounder!” called Louis, sharply enough to produce an impression on the ruffian, while he still kept his smoking revolver in his hand. The man stopped; but he seemed to be very much disheartened and disgusted at the turn the affair had taken. Why he should move in the direction he had taken unless the Maud was there, Louis could not imagine. “You threatened my life with a revolver, and you have been disabled. I have no ill-feeling towards you, and I propose to take you on board of the steamer, where you can be properly attended to,” said Louis, in a mild tone. “I shall not go on board of the steamer again,” replied Flounder, gathering up somewhat from his depression. “But you will go to the steamer!” added Louis sternly. “Bickling, did you see any vessel up the bay?” “Which I did, and the Maud is there, sir,” answered the cook. “That is all I want to know now,” continued the plucky leader, as he walked up to Flounder, and told him to march for the boat. The ruffian refused to do so. Louis took him by the collar, and then a scuffle ensued; but the recruit could do nothing with his right shoulder disabled, and fell to the ground. With the assistance of the cook, Louis dragged him to the boat, put him into it, and then shoved off. CHAPTER XXVII AN AGENT OF THE ENEMY