I looked as he pointed, clutching the recovered papers in my hands, and forgetful of Henley. The sun had discovered an opening in the cloud bank, and a long shaft of golden light played across the water, gleaming with white caps. Into its radiance the revenue cutter was gliding, outlined against the leafy shade of Cosmos Island, her flag standing out like a board in the fresh breeze, her cutwater churning up a mass of foam. She made a beautiful picture, one that fascinated me for the moment, and caused me to forget my own immediate incidents. I was brought back to a realization of the situation by Hutton's hand on my shoulder.
"Nice-looking old girl, but, like all of her sex, a gay deceiver. Slowest tub that ever floated a U. S. flag; any coal barge could get away from her in a fair wind. Take her half an hour now to get within hailing distance, and the old man raging to learn the news. How do you feel? still groggy?"
"All right, except for a stiff headache."
"Then come into the cabin. There is nothing more to do on deck, and I want to get sight of the ship's papers. Where was the fellow cleared for?"
"Santiago."
"And his cargo?"
"Miscellaneous; mostly farm machinery—worth investigating."
"I 'll have some of the boxes broken open, but will take a squint at the papers first. What became of the girl?"
"The steward took her below, and locked her in before the fracas started."
"I thought so; I heard a little of the talk, and hung back so as to give you plenty of time." He laughed, good-humoredly. "Nice little scrap, Craig; those fellows never even heard us, until I was over the rail. By the way, is the young lady married? I never heard the whole story."