"There is no harbor hereabouts," shouted the skipper of the Dauntless. "They are going to beach her and take to the woods."
The alarm on deck reached the ears of Jack Devlin, who popped out of the stoke-hole and viewed the manœuvre with blank dismay.
"I don't blame Quesada for beating it to the tall timber," he muttered disgustedly. "But what about Goodwin?"
The Dauntless turned to follow, but her master was unfamiliar with the shoals and reefs lying close to the land. He reluctantly slackened speed to feel his way inshore. The Juan Lopez, handled by one who knew where he was going, made straight for a small bight of the coast where the jungle crept, tall and dense, to the beach.
The marines opened fire when the converging courses of the two vessels brought them within extreme rifle-range of each other. The Juan Lopez showed no intention of heaving to. Her crew could be seen running to and fro, working furiously at the tackle of the boats, making ready to drop them overside. The volleys from the Dauntless seemed only to quicken their industry.
"Oh, for a Maxim or a Colt's automatic!" sighed the captain of marines. "I'd make that wicked old tub look like a porous plaster. Who ever dreamed the beggars would do anything but surrender?"
General Quesada had obviously concluded that it was better to try to find another ship and more guns and rascals than to cool his heels in an American jail. The flight of the Juan Lopez ceased abruptly and at full-tilt. She grounded close to the beach, and the shock was so great that her ancient funnel was jerked overside as if it had been plucked out by the roots.
Many of her crew tarried not for the boats, but jumped overboard, bobbed up like so many corks, and scrambled through the surf to scuttle headlong into the jungle.
The disappointed marines were within effective shooting distance, and they merrily peppered the vanishing rogues. The Dauntless swung her boats out and a landing-party was swiftly organized. The boats of the fugitive filibusters were more or less screened from view by the intervening hull of the Juan Lopez. A sharp lookout was kept for the bulky figure of General Quesada himself. Somehow he escaped observation. Before the marines had set out for the shore, the last runaway from the Juan Lopez had fled across the beach and buried himself in the jungle. The stranded ship had emptied herself as by magic. It was concluded that General Quesada had been among the crowd which filled the boats and floundered pell-mell through the surf.
"The boss pirate got away from us," disgustedly exclaimed Jack Devlin.