"I don't know your tally," he remarked.
"Cap'n Hiram Adams is my name," replied the skipper of the Bronx City. "Guess people know me from Quebec round the Horn and up to Seattle and on this side of the herring-pond, too, I reckon. Hope you're wiser."
"I am," rejoined Pengelly curtly. "Now let me see your papers."
Accompanied by the prize-master and followed by two of the Alerte's hands, Captain Adams went to his cabin, unlocked a safe and produced the necessary documents.
Pengelly's eyes opened with astonished satisfaction. The Bronx City, a twin-screw boat, had a rich cargo. She had come from Beira with a heavy consignment of gold from Lisbon. At Accra she had picked up a thousand barrels of palm oil. Amongst other articles enumerated on her manifest were ivory and ostrich feathers. In addition to her cargo, she carried nine Portuguese passengers—residents of Beira and Quilimane—on their way to Lisbon.
Unable to decide what was to be done, Pengelly ordered one of the hands to semaphore the Alerte and inform Captain Cain of the identity of the prize and the nature of her cargo.
Back came the reply: "Stand fast. Am coming on board."
Cain lost no time in so doing. He was far more perturbed than was his second in command. He had gone against his resolution not to molest a United States ship. He had done so in all good faith—if such a term can be applied to rank piracy—but the fact remained that he had fired upon a vessel flying the Stars and Stripes.
Long before the Alerte's second cutter came alongside the Bronx City, Cain had made up his mind as to the course to pursue.
Ascending the accommodation-ladder, he made his way to the bridge where Captain Hiram Adams was standing under guard.