"THE RIGHT BOAT AND THE RIGHT CREW!"
Three hours later, under a new order from Washington, the gunboat's
launch stole in alongside of a second schooner that had been pursued,
overhauled and brought to a standstill.
This craft, however, proved to be a Nova Scotian vessel, with papers all
right, a cargo beyond suspicion and no sign of the fugitive Gray aboard.
When news of this second failure had been flashed to Washington, and
twenty minutes more had passed, the instructions came back out of the
ether:
"Cruise slowly about where you are. Await new instructions, which will
go forward to you as soon as we have fresh, reliable information from
any source. See that your own search light is freely used through the
night."
"'Puss in the Corner,' at sea," muttered Lieutenant Benson. "And we
ain't even find a corner."
An hour later the young commander of the "Sudbury" turned in. Hal was
on the bridge.
The gunboat cruised along lazily at about eight knots an hour. For
some time Hal paced the bridge indolently, while the sailor lookout,
forward, manipulated the searchlight, sending its beam in wide circles
over the waters.
It was within half an hour of the time of calling the new watch, in fact,
when the bow watch reported:
"Sail dead ahead, sir!"
Barely more than a topsail could be made out, even through the marine
glass of the young watch officer.
"Hold the light on her; we'll overtake and examine her, anyway," was
Ensign Hastings's quick decision. From the bridge he gave orders for
the engine room to go ahead with increased speed. While the gunboat was
bounding off after the stranger, time came to call the port watch. Eph
Somers came up to the bridge, somewhat sleepy.
"Same old story, I guess," yawned Eph. "Have you passed the word to
the executive office?"
"Not yet," Hal replied. "I didn't believe it worth while to break the
slumber of Mr. Fullerton, or of the commander, until we got close to
see whether the stranger looks in the least like the 'Juanita.'"
"I don't believe the 'Juanita' is anywhere on this wide ocean," muttered
Eph, stifling a yawn.
"It doesn't look that way," smiled Hastings.
Down before the wheelhouse a bell began to sound briskly.
"Eight bells; your watch, Mr. Somers," announced Hastings. "But I am
going to remain on the bridge with you for a while. I want a look at
that mud-hooker over yonder."
Within fifteen minutes more the gunboat was running fairly close,
though off to starboard.
"That doesn't look even a little bit like the 'Juanita,'" muttered
Ensign Eph, disgustedly. "Why, she's longer than the Cobtown schooner.
Besides, the 'Juanita' is a two-sticker, while that hooker yonder has
a third mast with a yawl-rig leg-o'-mutton sail."
Hal said nothing, but continued to study the stranger through his
night-glass.
"She is a queer-looking hooker," muttered Hastings. "Say, Eph, somehow
that boat doesn't look as though she was built to fit her own rig."
"Why not!" demanded Eph.
"Well, look at her length. Then take a peep at the height of her
dory-mast. Does it look tall enough for the length of the schooner?"
"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Somers, also taking a careful look
through the nightglass. "Jove, Hal, she is an odd-looking piece of
hulk."
Eph turned to pass the order to run in still closer to the schooner.
"What's wrong with her stern-hull?" asked Ensign Somers, three or four
minutes later.
"Looks like a patchwork affair," declared Hal, more interested than
ever.
"Has she a built-on stern?" demanded Somers, half a minute later.
"By Jove, I half believe she has. Eph, without that stern and the yawl
mast, would you say the craft looks like the 'Juanita'?"
"I believe she would," muttered young Somers, excitedly. "Marine
orderly!"
A sea-soldier came quickly up the bridge stairs, saluting.
"Mr. Somers's compliments to Mr. Fullerton, and will the executive
officer come to the bridge?"
Again saluting the marine vanished aft. It doesn't take a naval officer
long to report, even when he has to rouse himself out of a sound sleep
to do it.
Ensign Fullerton reached the bridge rubbing his eyes, but he listened
intently to what the two younger ensigns had to say.
"Marine orderly!" called the executive officer. "Mr. Fullerton's
compliments to the commanding officer, and will he come to the bridge?"
Barely a minute later, Jack Benson stood on the bridge, listening to his
subordinate officers and staring across the gap of water at the
unknown craft.
"Mr. Fullerton," directed the young commander, "prepare to fire a signal
shot and to lower the power launch. Make up the boarding party as usual.
Mr. Somers, you will go in command of the launch. And I will accompany
you this time. Mr. Fullerton, when I leave the bridge, you will assume
command."
Both officers, as they received their orders, saluted.
Bang! The signal gun barked out, the flash from the muzzle sending a
long tongue of red through the darkness.
But the stranger continued on her way through the night. Ensign
Fullerton regarded the young commanding officer of the gunboat
expectantly.
"Put a solid shot across her bows, Mr. Fullerton."
Again the order was transmitted, with little noise. The gun-crew then
awaited the signal from the executive officer.
Bang! This time the solid shot struck the water a bare fifty feet ahead
of the strange craft's bows as she forged on through the waves, her bow
stirring up a gleaming white foam.
"That ought to stop her!" muttered Lieutenant Jack Benson, impatiently.
"I don't believe it is going to, though, sir," reported Ensign Fullerton,
studying the other vessel through his night-glass. "I don't see a sign
of motion on the stranger's decks."
"Load again with solid shot, then," directed the gunboat's young
commander. "This time hit her square in the fore-rigging."
"I'll step below and sight the piece myself," replied Ensign Fullerton.
A few moments later the executive officer reported the port bow gun in
readiness for service.
"Fire whenever you are ready, Mr. Fullerton," called Lieutenant Jack, in
a low voice.
Bang! barked the bow gun, a moment later. Over aboard the stranger
there was a crash, a tearing sound, and then her foretopmast toppled,
hanging loosely in place by the stays.
"That'll stop her, I reckon." chuckled Jack Benson.
And "stop her" it did. There was no choice but to stop. This gunboat
of the United States Navy was in a position to shoot every standing
stick out of the schooner, if provoked too far, and the legal right to
go to such lengths existed.
"Stranger is heaving to, sir," reported Ensign Somers.
"Very good, Mr. Somers. Order the power launch lowered. Put off as
quickly as possible."
"Very good, sir."
Ensign Fullerton hastened back to the bridge, to assume command, while
Hal hastings stood by him.
Boat-handlers and armed sailors and marines scampered over the side.
Down the gangway followed Jack and Eph, looking very stately as they
held their swords clear of their legs. Busily the launch chugged
across the intervening water gap.
"Schooner, ahoy!" hailed Eph, as the launch ran in alongside "What craft
is that?"
"Schooner 'Malta,' Cooper, master, from Sidney, N.S.," came the reply of
a man at the after rail.
"Seems to me I've seen you before, in Cobtown!" suddenly exclaimed Eph
Somers, as he leaped over the rail in advance of his marines.
"C-Cob--town?" demanded the schooner's master, falteringly.
"By the great Constitution! We've caught the 'Juanita' in disguise!"
bellowed back Ensign Eph, turning to Jack Benson, who was just boarding.
"See! There's the false stern structure."
"You're making a huge mistake of some sort, gentlemen!" protested the
vessel's master, tremulously.
"Marines, lay aboard," thundered Eph. "Take the deck, Corporal. Round
up all the crew you see, and make 'em stand at attention along one of
the seams of the deck! Sailors aboard, you down any man who tries to
block or balk you. Lively, now! I've seen this master in Cobtown, and
I'll take my oath this is the 'Juanita' with a pieced-out, false stern
and a faked third mast!"
"We hold you responsible for the deck, Corporal," spoke Jack, in a low
tone to the noncommissioned officer of marines. "We're going to take
the sailors and go below."
A rush was made for the companionway leading down into the schooner's
cabin. A man's white, scared face showed below, for a moment.
"Hurrah!" yelled Eph Somers, drawing his sword and making a bound below
"There's Brother Gray. Oh, we've the right boat--and the right crowd,
too!"