“The after funnel,” cried Jack, pointing to a jagged hole in the smoke stack.
“The next one may come closer,” choked out Bill rather shakily.
On the lower decks there was the wildest confusion. Women were fainting and the stewards and petty officers had all they could do to handle the frightened throngs. The striking of the funnel was the occasion for an angry and badly scared deputation to wait upon the captain and demand that he stop the ship at once.
But the deputation did not reach the bridge. They were met at the foot of the stairway leading to it by a polite but firm officer who informed them that under no circumstances would the captain tolerate any interference with his method of running the ship.
A third shot, which went wide, closely followed the one that had struck the after funnel. It flew high above them and caused Jack to observe:
“I don’t believe they mean to hit the hull, but only to scare the captain into heaving the boat to.”
“Looks that way,” agreed Bill, “and as for the scare part of it, I guess they’ve succeeded, so far as everybody is concerned but Captain Rollok and his officers.”
“We are gaining on zee cruiser without a doubt,” asserted de Garros, whose eyes had been fixed on the pursuing sea fighter for some minutes.
“Yes, but look, there comes another,” cried Jack, suddenly, pointing astern. “That must be the one Poffer heard signaling to the Berwick.”
“We’re in for it now,” said Bill. “I wish that pig-headed captain would heave to and let them take the gold and the Germans, if that’s all they are after.”