The Black Adder, though she was pinched up in the wind all she would bear, would not look up as close as the whaleboat, though she went faster through the water.
Jack's arm was now attended to and skilfully bound up by Loyola. A bullet had simply grooved through the flesh—not much more than a graze, but sufficient to cause a good deal of bleeding.
Jack, whilst his hurt was being doctored, thought hard. If something were not done soon, Dago Charlie's obstinate perseverance would prevail.
"We'll worry him yet," began the rover.
"Shore, an' euchre him too," said Broncho confidently.
"The wind's light enough now to help us," went on Jack. "Let's try some short tacking. We can go about three times to his one."
"That's good tactics, sure enough," commented Bill.
"Splendid!" cried Loyola. "Let's start at once."
"Right-oh! Ready about there, Tari. Bill, you ship an oar and help her round. We three will manage the lugsail."
The castaways had the boat round smartly, and away they went on the port tack, heading north-east.