The shout came from the crowd once more, but only from a part of it, and brave, faithful Long Jim closed his eyes that he might not see what would follow.
The elated swordsman held up his weapon as one would a banner.

It was a broad blade like a cutlass and it glittered in the brilliant sunlight.

The next moment there was the sound of a shot, the man uttered a cry of pain, although himself untouched, and the sword, broken in several pieces, fell to the ground.

It had been shot from his hand with a rifle bullet.
Long Jim, opening his eyes, uttered a cry of joy and Henry Ware, smoking rifle in hand, pressed his way through the crowd, which he had entered unnoticed in the excitement.
Francisco Alvarez sprang to his feet in anger.

Not for some moments did he see the figure of the one who fired the shot, and even then he did not know who it was.