Had either of us been more conversant with nautical matters we would have noticed something that Gates now came crawling up to tell us. He did this without being much exposed, by creeping along until abreast of us and then projecting himself, headfirst or any other way, into our midst. It was an active accomplishment for one of Gates's years.
"D'you see what they've done?" he excitedly asked. "That wheel, there, is lashed over; they've paid out the mains'l enough to starboard, and set the jib properly to port. That's why the fores'l isn't up!"
"What of it?"
"Why, sir, she'll sail that way all day in a wind like this, and nobody have to touch her! They knew we'd be popping at their helmsman, and they fixed it so we carn't! Now it's our turn to start something!"
"Then start it," Tommy said. "Run alongside and we'll climb over!"
"Mr. Thomas," he demurred, "that's rank piracy, unless we're the law. I wouldn't say no, understand, if there warn't some other way. But if we try it they'll have every right to shoot us down—which they can easy do, being hid and ready!"
"You forget, Gates, they haven't a right on earth. They don't want to face the law with the best justification ever known—they'd be mortally afraid to!"
"Then they wouldn't be any less particular about shooting us," the old skipper replied.
There was no denying that Tommy had impaled himself upon his own point; not that he cared a hang whether they began shooting or not, but the anxiety of Gates caused him to temporize, and he said:
"Bluff it! Sing across that we're the U. S. A. ordering 'em to stop. Say it strong enough to make us believe it, too, Gates—so we'll feel self-righteous when the scrap comes!"