In a few minutes the pumps of the Mendez Nunez got to work. Volumes of crude oil were released, spreading in vast iridescent patches to lee'ard of the tanker. Although the swell still continued, it lost its dangerous aspect.
"That's the ticket!" exclaimed Captain Cain to his second in command. "Well, it's their oil they're using, not mine.... Steady on your helm... port a bit... meet her at that."
Again the Alerte closed her prey, this time on the port side. Held by hawsers and springs fore and aft, the two vessels no longer ground against each other with any danger of violence.
At the head of fifteen armed men, Captain Cain boarded the prize. No resistance was offered. The Spanish captain and all his officers, with the exception of two engineers, were ordered for'ard and locked in the forepeak with the rest of the crew. Two of the tanker's ejector pumps were led to the Alerte's tanks and the work of refuelling the pirate submarine began.
While this business was in progress, the boarding party were by no means idle. A systematic search of the officers' quarters yielded a little booty. The ship's stores and provision rooms were pillaged, and anything likely to be of service to the pirates removed.
Then the wireless gear was rendered useless, the operator of the Mendez Nunez having previously been ordered to produce a record of messages sent and received during the last four hours. None had been sent since the Alerte fired a warning shot across the tanker's bows, the operator having deserted his post in the general panic that ensued.
Meanwhile, Marchant the gunner, with a couple of hands, went below to the tanker's engine-room. Breaking open the tunnel of the main shaft, they fractured the propeller shaft by means of a slab of gun cotton. Within the space of fifty minutes Captain Cain had accomplished his task. He had replenished the Alerte's fuel supply, plundered the tanker, and had left her helpless in the Atlantic, with no means of summoning assistance other than by visual signalling.
"Recall the hands, Mr. Marchant," ordered Captain Cain, when the gunner returned on deck and reported the fracturing of the propeller shaft.
A shrill whistle had the immediate effect of bringing the boarding-party to the side.
"All correct, sir," reported the gunner, after the men had numbered off. "How about those chaps, sir?" he added, pointing in the direction of the forepeak. "Do we let 'em out?"