They need a boss, sir,--that's what they need.

And they need him damned quick, so if you don't mind saying the word,--they're ready to make a rush, and if--" "Go ahead, Percival,--if you can hold them--" "Say no more!" shouted Percival, and stepped resolutely forward.

His hands were bare,--swollen, red and ugly; his eyes were as cold as steel, his voice as sharp as a keen-edged sword.

He spoke in Spanish to the wavering, threatening horde.
"You damned, sneaking, low-lived cowards! What sort of swine are you?
Have you no thought for the women you've trampled upon and beaten out of your path,--your own women, as well as the others,--think of them and ask yourselves if you are men.

I'm in command of this ship now, and, by God, I'm going to let you get into those boats and start for shore.
Don't cheer! You don't know what's coming to you.