"Seen a whole fleet of them," answered Lawless.
"The one I'm after had her number painted out and when last seen was using a brown mainsail and a staysail half brown and half white."
"Phew!" whistled Trent softly and added in a whisper to Lawless, "it's the hooker that slipped her cable last night."
The Lieutenant nodded.
"What about her?" he asked, addressing the commander of the Kite.
"Why she's a gun-runner skippered by a ruffian called Mike Mahoney. We've just learnt that she took on a cargo of guns and ammunition from a German submarine yesterday and landed them early this morning in some creek near Galley Head."
"And got clear away?" asked Lawless in well-simulated astonishment.
"Yes; that chap's the most slippery cuss in all Ireland."
"I'll keep a look-out for her," answered Lawless. "Wish you luck."
And, waving his hand in farewell to the Kite, the Lieutenant rang down "full-speed" and was off before the other could ask any more inconvenient questions.