"I reckon you're right, lad," Darius said decidedly. "We can't expect to gather much of any news the first pop, an' if we get acquainted, it will be a long step in the right direction."
As a matter of course, the old man's opinion settled the question, and we hauled around for a run down the bay, double reefing the mainsail and jib, as was proper when you take into consideration the fact that we had the same as no cargo aboard to give the pungy stiffness.
Up to this time neither one had made any proposition as to how we were to begin operations, and I naturally concluded that we would sail boldly up to the first craft we saw, asking if we could sell them oysters, therefore I suggested, when we were standing off on a course that would bring us on to the Tangier Islands:
"If we keep up this rate of speed, we may come upon the enemy while it is yet night."
"Ay, lad, an' I'm thinkin' it would be a good plan."
"But people don't go out sellin' things before daylight," I said with a laugh.
"I'm countin' on bein' properly interduced," Darius replied with a grin. "If we're hailed, an' ordered to lay by till mornin', we shall have one ship's crew that'll listen to us."
I did not understand this explanation more than if it had been given in Latin; but the others appeared to be satisfied, and I held my peace rather than display ignorance.
We kept our course a couple of hours, and, then, directly in a line with the Tangiers, I saw the loom of what appeared to be a large ship.
"There's one of the fleet," I said in a whisper to Darius, who was at the tiller, and he replied in a matter-of-fact tone: