“Avast there, you lubbers!” it shouted. “You’re too late for action. The scoundrels hoisted anchor and made sail long ago. By this time they’re running before the wind under full canvas.”
The old sailor came hobbling swiftly toward them, bearing his gun, his cane forgotten for the time being.
“Did you see them, Quinn?” asked Lawyer Francis.
“I did that,” was the prompt answer. “I put my lamps on them just as they got under full headway, and I’ll swear I hurried them some with a double charge of buckshot.”
“You fired at them?”
“Both barrels at once, and it’s a mercy if I ain’t got a busted shoulder to pay for it. The old gun near kicked my head off, confound it!”
“How many of them were there? How many did you see?”
“It’s dungeon dark a’most, but I’m certain sure I saw two, at least.”
“Mebbe some of you thought I was lying or a fool,” cried Officer Sylvester triumphantly. “Now I guess you’ll change your tune. Here’s the winder. Just look at it.”
The electric torch was again turned on the cut and bended bars, and the group of men pressed forward, staring and exclaiming.