"Concern 'em, that ought to stop 'em," growled Herc.
But it didn't. More smoke rolled out of the yacht's stack. Her speed was increased, if anything.
"I'm certain now that we're on the right track," grated out Ned; "no honest craft would ignore a signal like that."
Then a moment later he turned to Herc.
"Mr. Taylor, go below and sight that gun yourself. Let her have it across the fore-deck. I'll make them heave to if I have to blow a hole in them."
Herc was nothing loath. Repressing a grin in virtue of the dignity of his office, he took charge of the gun. He pointed it carefully and as the destroyer rose on the crest of a wave, Ned gave the command.
"Fire!"
Bang!
The next instant an exultant cheer broke from the excited Jackies. The foremast of the stranger toppled, and then in a tangled wreck, came smashing down to the deck.