“Ye have what?”
“The solution. We’ll take the schooner!”
“Boy, dear, are ye mad?” gasped the astonished Irishman.
“Not a bit of it,” said the lad excitedly. “Listen. There were only about ten men in the vessel all told. There were four with Danvers and two upon the pier. That makes six, and leaves only four on the schooner.”
Longsword drew in a long, deep breath and then said:
“Good! But let’s look to the weapons before we begin.”
They examined the pistols and found there were four of them; they were ready charged and primed; the cutlasses were of the short-bladed “hanger” type of the British navy.
“Sure, what makes people turn out such weeney little blades?” said Longsword. “Faith, Master Ethan, these are not a man’s size at all, at all. I like a sword a good three feet long, and wid some weight in it, faix.”
“I suppose you’ll have to do with what we can find here, old fire eater,” smiled Ethan. “These cutlasses are not so bad for close work. They are short, but remember the Romans conquered the world with a short sword.”
“If they’d had long ones they’d done the job in half the time,” said Longsword.