In obedience to his command, a string of brightly colored bunting presently crawled up the destroyer's military mast.
It was the signal to "heave to."
But the strange yacht showed no inclination to obey. She kept right on plowing through the big seas with a crest of foam at her bow.
"You may fire, Mr. Fuller."
Ned's voice was perfectly calm; but Herc could hardly keep still. The bow rapid-fire gun had been stripped of its waterproof cover and its crew was "standing by." The order to fire came crisply.
"Let her have it across the bows!"
Bang! The gun barked out viciously. They could see the shot go ricocheting off over the waves.
But the stranger kept serenely on.
"Give it to her again," ordered Ned.
Bang! Once more a shot whizzed across the recalcitrant stranger's prow. It struck the water not more than twenty-five feet ahead of her.