"Not precisely that, but he got tired of our firing. I suppose he was afraid a stray bullet might hit him in a soft place, either by accident or design. I was going to hail him, and invite him to go aft; but he has saved me the trouble by going without any invitation," Louis explained.
"Then the shooting was not a waste of powder," added Felix.
"It was not. I doubt if we could have hit the captain if we had fired at him for two hours, for the distance is too great for revolvers of the calibre of ours, and the noise was just as good as bullets. I don't want him to cut the tow-line if we can help it, though I would rather he would chop it off than be compelled to shoot him."
"It would not be pleasant to go back to the Guardian-Mother with a dead man standing on the forecastle."
"Or even lying on the deck. It might make trouble for us, though I don't know why it should. But we are getting close to the New Mole light, and I must go forward," added Louis. "You may remain here, Flix, and if you see the captain of the Golondrina coming forward again, fire out the rest of your barrels, and then load up again."
"I'll do that same. I'll take the fore mast for a mark, and fire at a target."
"I am afraid you will hit him if you do that," suggested Louis.
"Do you think all the money you spent on my education as a shootist was wasted? I believe I could hit the Rock of Gibraltar every time if I was near enough to it," laughed Felix.
"I would trust you to do that."
"And I might hit the fore mast above the captain's head once in a while, and it would make the thing seem a bit more real if he could hear the noise of the ball as it flew through the air, or struck the wood."