Carrying full staysail, jib, foresail and mainsail the schooner plunged into the waves, sending cascades of water over her forecastle with every leap. She was loaded deeply and the boys could see that she would prove to be what the sailors term a “wet ship.”
Every moment the speed was increasing. The mate had trimmed the sheets to the exact point for greatest efficiency.
Suddenly all hands were startled by a hail from a point on the starboard bow. They saw a small motor boat riding dizzily upon the crest of a wave one moment to be dropped out of sight in the trough the next.
“Ahoy, the Knobloch!” came a cry.
“Ahoy, the launch!” bawled out the mate in a voice of thunder. “What do you want? Stand off or we’ll run you down!”
“We want those passengers of yours!” was the reply.
“All right, come on and get ’em!” yelled the mate above the noise of singing wind in the rigging. “We can’t stop now!”
“If you don’t heave to I’ll fire!” was the answer.
“Good night!” cried Jimmie from a position near the lee rail, where he could look out beneath the main boom. “That’s Mackinder!”
A revolver shot sounded amidst the tumult of rushing waters and singing rigging. The echo was quickly bitten off by the rising wind. The shot sounded dully above the humming and roaring.