CHAPTER III
THE GUNNER OF THE SLOOP
Swiftly and silently the Tremendous spread her wings in the dusk.
The riding-officer was going over the side.
"Good luck, sir!" he said. "Make a cop; and Pitt'll thank you on his knees."
For all answer the block-of-granite little man by the wheel turned his back.
"Cut the cable!" he barked. "Set studdin-sails alow and aloft! Inboard side-lights! Boniface, take a party of small-arm men forrad, and keep a sharp look-out!"
Before the riding-officer had dropped into the dinghy, the Tremendous began to slap the water, shaking out ragged topsails as she slid out of the harbour, a misty rain shrouding her.
"There's a row-boat coming up astern, sir," ventured the boy—"rowing like mad."
"I have ears, sir, and I'm usin em," snapped the other, and stumped forward, leaning heavily on a stick, thick and surly as himself.