“You was to fire at the hat. There’s the hat. Now measure off the six hundred yards,” said Bradish.
“Don’t measure it that way,” said Uncle Isaac to the boys, who were about to measure in the direction that the hat was shoved into the hole.
“What difference does it make?” asked Bradish.
“’Cause it does. I’ve a right to fire in any direction I like, at six hundred yards.”
Uncle Isaac fired, and the ball, just grazing the edge of the post, went through every fold of the hat crossways, the rifle ball whirling as it went, cutting it all to pieces.
“You’ve spoilt my new hat,” said Bradish, with a rueful face, holding it up, all full of holes, like a colander.
“That’s what you get by trying to cheat: good enough for you,” was the cry.
Scarcely had the laugh subsided, when Will Griffin was seen coming on horseback at full speed, and as he drew near, he bawled out, “Uncle Isaac, Joe, Master Bell, Captain Rhines wants you to come just as quick as you can; there’s a vessel cast away—folks going to be drowned on the Brant rocks.”
When they reached the cove, they found Captain Rhines, in the Perseverance, her sails close reefed and set, hatches fastened down, and the vessel hauled in against a perpendicular ledge, while he was holding her by a rope fast to a tree.