The lad was swelling with pride. He had accomplished a great feat, and he knew it.
By this time glasses from the warship were being leveled at the strange craft that was to be seen floundering through the sea, headed for the harbor where the battleship was at anchor. The officer of the deck sent word to the captain, who was below, and the captain, after one look at the wreck approaching, sent for the executive officer.
"What do you make of her, Mr. Coates?" he questioned.
The executive officer took a long, searching look at the schooner, then turned wonderingly toward his superior.
"It's our schooner 'Oriole,' unless I am greatly mistaken, sir."
"You don't mean it?"
"I may be mistaken, but it looks very much like her."
"But we smashed the hulk of the 'Oriole,' Mr. Coates. We saw her go under."
"If we did she has pulled herself together and come back from Davy Jones's Locker to a certainty. There's a man at the wheel, sir. I believe that is Seaman Davis."
"Send a boat's crew out to meet her at once."