"The Bedford Castle, cannery-tender for Bristol Bay," Peasley shouted back.
The man on the launch relinquished his lantern, and using both palms for a funnel, cried, more clearly now: "Heave to! We want to come aboard."
With an exclamation of impatience, the commanding officer stepped to the telegraph, but Emerson forestalled him.
"Wait, they're after me, Captain; it's the Port Townsend police, and if you let them aboard they'll take me off."
"What makes you think so?" demanded Peasley.
"Ask them."
Turning, the skipper bellowed down the gleaming electric pathway, "Who are you?"
"Police! We want to come aboard."
"What did I tell you?" cried Emerson.
Once more the Captain shouted: "What do you want?"