"Why, you are, Jack!" cried Loyola in great distress.
"Only a scratch on the arm," remarked the former carelessly.
"Let me bind it up."
"No time now, Lolie. Well-aimed broadside that; 'bout four hundred, isn't it, Bill?"
"Aye."
"Plug those shot-holes if you can, Jim," went on the rover in a most unconcerned voice.
He knew that things were looking serious, but the last thing he wished to do was to show the boat's crew that he thought so.
"He shore cuts loose some lead that time," muttered Broncho. "The kyards is comin' some swift. Thar's nothin' tender about that 'ere maverick; he's plumb wolf from away back."
"More cartridges here, powder-monkey," laughed Bill cheerily to the boy.
Jim reached over to the bag, but Loyola was quicker, and held out her two small hands with all they could hold in front of the bluejacket.