The professor staggered backward, and a moment later Fred had felled the Zulu.

I reeled from weakness and excitement, and nearly fell down.
"Throw him to the crocks, you men!" I urged madly.

"He threw Crinkle in.

Throw him! Nobody'll ever know! He'd have dared throw me in! Nobody comes here! Throw him in and trust the crocks to leave no trace!" "Shut up, you fool!" growled Fred.
"Did you see him throw that dog in ?" I retorted.
"No," he answered, "but I saw him strike you.

That's enough! I'll deal with him!" I suppose Fred intended to knock the professor down and belabor him with the same stick he had used on me, but the plan died stillborn.
Schillingschen bethought him of his hip-pocket, produced a repeating pistol, and leveled it.
"Any nonsense, and I shoot you all!" he announced.
That ended the battle as far as we were concerned.