“Sight straight across the point,” he directed, “above that scrub pine. What do you make of it?”
Billy looked and gave an unrestrained shout of joy. Within the dancing field of the glasses he could see the big, white yacht plunging through the heavy seas, while on either side and just ahead of her three dark vessels were swiftly drawing in.
“I wondered why they were so slow there at the Naval Station when I sent my message,” remarked the Captain. “I see now that they were taking no chances, but were seeing to it the yacht was headed off this time. Hark!” The wind had shifted and was blowing hard in shore. It carried to them a faint sound—“boom,” and then again—“boom.”
“They are firing on her,” shouted Billy, dancing up and down with excitement. Johann had the glasses now, and was looking through them intently.
“She is lying to,” he said quietly at last. “She sees she can’t make it.”
“No? Give me that glass.” Captain Saulsby fairly snatched it out of his hand. “Well, it’s true,” he went on after watching the vessels for a moment. “She hasn’t even the spirit to get herself respectably sunk. They’ll bring her into port, I suppose, and put the whole lot in jail. Harvey Jarreth will be glad to see them.”
He got up slowly and stiffly.
“I guess the show is over,” he said, “and I, for one, begin to remember that there is such a thing in the world as sleep. We ought all of us to turn in. Johann Happs, you look like a ghost, man; you should be taking some rest. When those rascals are brought up in court, the authorities will be needing your evidence. You must get yourself pulled together somehow.”
“Yes—yes, I will go home at once.”
Billy thought that Johann seemed to be paying very little attention even to his own words, but he said nothing. He was weary himself, yet still too excited to feel sleepy. Johann left them at Captain Saulsby’s door, but Billy went inside and remained to help the old man prepare a breakfast of bacon and coffee, which tasted most delicious and was badly needed by both of them.