CHAPTER VII
The Derelict
“Down helm!” ordered Brandon, in his capacity of officer of the starboard watch. “At that! Keep her so!”
The Kestrel, answering readily to a slight pressure on the tiller, changed her course to bring the other craft on her port bow.
“If we pass within hailing distance they might be able to give us our position,” remarked the Patrol Leader.
Quickly the stranger loomed up in the dispersing mist, for by this time visibility extended to nearly a quarter of a mile. She turned out to be a schooner. Her topsails were furled, but her fore and aft canvas was set, the head-sails being to wind’ard. Under these conditions she was “hove-to” with a decided list to port.
As a precautionary measure the Kestrel announced her approach by three blasts of her fog-horn, for the wind was well abaft the beam. No reply came from the schooner.
“Careless look-out, what?” observed Peter.
“I fancy there’s something amiss,” replied Brandon. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone on board. What shall we do, sir?”
Mr. Grant, thus appealed to, shook his head.
“You’re standing your trick, Brandon,” he replied. “Officially I’m not on duty. Use your own discretion.”