Then a shot from behind the dunes cracked out across the crumbling, hissing surf.
"Ah," laughed Leclair, "the ball has opened, eh?
Well this is now no time for talk, for empty words.

I think I understand you, my Captain; and to the death I stand at your right hand!" Their palms met and clasped, a moment, in the firm grip of a compact between two strong men, unafraid.

Then each drew his pistol, crouching there at the windows of the pilot-house.
"Hear how that bullet sang ?" questioned the Frenchman.

"It was notched--a notched slug, you understand.

That is a familiar trick with these dog-people of the Beni Harb.