“Good Lord!” said Harman. The Captain said nothing, merely raising his hand to signify that he had understood.
“What’s your speed?” came again the voice through the megaphone.
The Captain seized the bridge megaphone.
“Ten knots,” he answered.
“Right!” came the reply. “Follow us at full speed.”
The blue water creamed at the Minerva’s forefoot as her speed developed. She drew away rapidly, and the Penguin slowly and sulkily began to move, making a huge circle to starboard.
When she got into line the Minerva was a good two miles ahead.
Said Harman, for the Captain was speechless:
“I call this playing it pretty low down. Jumping Jeehoshophat, but we’ll be had before Sprengel! He won’t rub his hands—oh, no! I guess he won’t rub his hands! And the old Penguin is going as if she liked it. Ain’t there no gunpowder aboard to blow a hole in her skin an’ sink her? And that durned British cruiser as tight fixed to us as though she was towing us with a forty-foot hawser. I reckon if I had some poison I’d pour it out and drink it. I would that! I feel that way low down I’d pour it out and drink it.”
“Oh, shut your head!” said the Captain. “You carry on like an old woman with the stomach ache. We’re caught and we’re being lugged along by the police officer, and there’s no use in clutching at the railings or making a disturbance. The one good thing is that we haven’t any of those chaps on board us, sitting with fixed bayonets on the saloon hatch and we in the saloon. The first thing to be done is to steal as much distance out of her as we can without her kicking.”