"Ahoy!" he yelled. "Ahoy, you wind-jammer!"
"What's eating you? Why are you so late?" demanded Curley, approaching. "You needn't say—I know."
"Foller my wake an' you'll see a dead cow," cried Salem. "Deader'n dead, too! Shot in th' starboard—no, was it starboard? Now, d——d if I know—reckon it was in th' port eye, though I didn't see no port light; aye, 'twas in th' port—"
"What in h—l do I care what eye it was!" shouted Curley. "Where is it?"
"Eight knots astern. Shot in th' port eye, an', as I said, deader'n dead. Flew our flag, too."
Curley, believing that the cook had seen what he claimed, wheeled abruptly and galloped away to report it to Meeker.
"Hey! Ain't you going to see it?" yelled Salem, and as he received no reply, turned to his team. "Come on, weigh anchor! Think I want to lay out here all night? 'A-sailing out of Salem town,—'" he began, and then stopped short and thought. "I knowed it!—it was th' port eye! Same side th' flag was on!" he exclaimed, triumphantly.
CHAPTER XVI
THE FEINT