As Jerry changed his position, he saw for the first time that Sandy had the big brass flare gun in his hand! He was cocking it carefully, and keeping an eye on Jones’s sloop which seemed to be almost ready to ram them. Lying flat on the foredeck of the pursuing boat, they could clearly see the figure of Turk, hurriedly reloading his pistol.
“You’re not going to try to shoot him with that?” Jerry said. “Those things are way too inaccurate! You won’t stand a chance!”
“Not him,” Sandy said. “It!” He steadied the flare gun on the edge of the afterdeck and squinted down its length, aiming at the spinnaker!
Seeing now what Sandy was attempting, Jerry crouched beside him and held his breath. Sandy waited till almost the last possible minute until, just as Turk was raising his pistol to fire once more, he released the flare.
A dazzling arc of fire leaped from the brass muzzle straight for the bellying spinnaker! It landed in a shower of sparks, bright enough to show them Turk’s astonished face turned upward to see what had hit them. The shot had hit squarely in the center of the ballooning sail, burning a small, red-ringed hole which slowly spread.
Would this be all? Just a spreading ring of coals that would die in a minute or two? If this was all, it was not enough! Then, just as Sandy was beginning to fear that he had made a mistake that might well cost them everything, the sail burst into flame!
The column of fire shot straight upward into the blackness of the night, vividly illuminating both boats. In its brilliant light, the boys saw Turk stand up, black against the flames, then leap overboard.
“One down!” Sandy said. “But what about Jones?”
As the flaming spinnaker spread its fire to the mainsail and the mast, they saw Jones rise in the cockpit, level his rifle and shoot. Six shots rang out in quick succession, and all six whizzed harmlessly by. Then Jones flung his empty gun into the sea and turned his attention to the fire.
Jerry and Sandy sailed slowly away from the flaming scene, and then started to sail in a circle around it, still watching Jones. He had gotten a bucket from below, and was throwing sea water, as fast as he could scoop it up, over the burning and the unburned parts of the sloop. The fire was gaining though, and his efforts were obviously doomed to failure.