"I'll show--" "Because there is one on board," shouted Ridge, springing in front of the infuriated man, and at the same moment whipping out his revolver.
"Halt where you are!" he added, fiercely.

"For if you dare touch that flag before I am through with it I will blow out your traitorous brains!" The Captain, cowed by the steadily levelled muzzle of that pistol, obeyed this order and stood still; but at the same time he yelled for any of the transport's crew who might be within hearing to tumble aft in a hurry.
In another minute they came--mates, deck-hands, engineers, stewards, and stokers--blocking the narrow gangways on either side of the deck-house.

But beyond this they dared not go; for they too were confronted by that levelled pistol, and its holder's assurance that he would fire at the first man who advanced another step.
Thus the single figure with a cocked revolver and the unarmed mob that it held at bay faced each other for a full minute, during which time the purple-faced Captain raved, foamed at the mouth, and, with bitter curses, ordered his men to make a rush at the young pirate.

That they did not obey was because of the unflinching steadiness of the young pirate's gaze, which they realized would detect their slightest forward movement.
All at once Ridge caught a glimpse of a man on the roof of the deck-house, just as he dodged from sight behind the life-raft.

He thought he had also seen a gun in the man's hand.