He studied the chart intently, at the same time taking frequent glances at the helmsman to guard against surprise.
"'Allsands, that's wot it is," he declared. "Now, look 'ere, mate. Throw the yot up in the wind and put that there engine into the dinghy. Can you work it?"
Hayes shook his head again.
"You'll jolly well 'ave to," continued the young pirate. "Look slippy."
Obediently the Sea Scout threw the Spindrift up into the wind and drew the dinghy alongside. His ready brain was evolving a plan. He meant to make a flying leap into the dinghy and push off, leaving the other fellow in possession of the yacht. It was unlikely that the red-haired youth would jump overboard and swim after the dinghy before Hayes had time to ship rowlocks and man the sculls. If he did, a tap over the head with one of the oars would bring him to his senses—or otherwise.
But the Sea Scout reckoned without his host.
"'Ere, 'and me that painter," said the pirate with a grin. "Do you go aft an' fix up that motor. Look sharp, there."
Hayes clamped the outboard motor, and adjusted the controls. As he did so, he noticed that the fellow had not belayed the painter, but was holding it in his hand. If the engine were put suddenly into the reverse, the chances were that he would have to choose between letting go or being dragged overboard.
The engine fired. Quick as thought Hayes raised the tiller, thereby setting the propeller blade at full astern. As the Sea Scout had surmised, the painter tautened suddenly, and the next instant it was jerked out of the red-haired youth's hands.
As soon as the dinghy was sufficient distance astern the triumphant Hayes put the engine ahead, in order to keep within hailing distance of the fellow in possession of the Spindrift, and to deliver an ultimatum.