MacBean went back to his engine room.
“May I ax, Captain,” said one of the fellows, “what’s to become of the owners?”
“Meaning Mr. Wolff and Mr. Shiner?” replied the Captain. “Why, they are prisoners of war, and they will be treated as such without a hair of their heads being touched. But we can’t keep them on board. We’ll land them somewhere, or put them on a German ship, if we find one. Now, then, look lively and get the cable away. Mr. Harman, get it aft from the testing-room, and then cast loose the stoppers; dump both ends.”
He went on the bridge while Harman cast the cable loose; then he rang up the engines, and, giving the fellow at the wheel a sou’westerly course to steer by, put the engine telegraph to full speed ahead.
He wanted to get away from that spot in a hurry. He had not yet fixed on any point to make for—north, south, east, or west did not matter for the moment to him. He wanted to be somewhere else and to put as many long leagues as possible between the Penguin and the scene of her crime.
Harman presently joined him on the bridge.
Said Harman: “Well, this is a rum joke, ain’t it, Captain? ’Pears to me it’s the rummest joke ever I seen. We’ve took the ship, and we’ve took the owners—and how about our bonuses and pay?”
“We’ll have to take the bonuses out of the first Dutchman we can lay hands on,” said the Captain. “We’ll never get a cent from Wolff and Shiner. Their game is up. If I can lay alongside of a German trader—and there are plenty in these waters—I’ll take all she’s got.”
“And suppose they show fight?” said Harman.
“Traders don’t fight—we have eight rifles—without ammunition, but that doesn’t matter, for we’d only be spoofing. The sight of the rifles is enough. Still, I wouldn’t mind fighting if we have to.”