Throwing ahead of her a solid shell, she raced in pursuit, and as The Three Friends leaped to full speed there came from the gun-boat the sharp dry crackle of Mausers.
With an explosion of terrifying oaths Lighthouse Harry thrust a shell into the breech of the quick-firing gun.

Without waiting to aim it, he tugged at the trigger.

Nothing happened! He threw open the breech and gazed impotently at the base of the shell.

It was untouched.

The ship was ringing with cries of anger, of hate, with rat-like squeaks of fear.
Above the heads of the filibusters a shell screamed and within a hundred feet splashed into a wave.
From his mat in the lee scupper David groaned miserably.