“I want every last boat gassed up for an emergency run,” he commanded. “Any of you men that have guns, get ’em loaded and ready. There’s a couple o’ whale-guns up at my cabin. You, Pete and Dan, get ’em an’ see that they’re loaded. We’ll show ’em.”
They were about ready for a start when Blackie and his men arrived on the scene.
“Blackie,” Red exploded, “they’ve got Rusty and your boy, Johnny. They’re holdin’ ’em captive. Come on! We’ll start a war!”
For once, Blackie did not say, “No.” After they had turned the small, blue bear loose in a sheet-metal tool-shed he climbed into Dan MacMillan’s speed boat, dragging Red and Lawrence with him, and they were away.
It was this speedboat that had spied the Shadow. They had given it chase and had, as you have seen, at last, after sending a volley of machine-gun bullets across its bow, overhauled it.
The Shadow was the very craft that had been awaited by the Oriental ship. Had it put in an appearance two hours sooner, the ship must surely have weighed anchor and our story might have been much longer. As it was, the Orientals were destined to wait a long, long time before lifting the Shadow on deck, if at all.
While Johnny and Rusty looked and listened, the whole cannery fleet, every small deck bristling with guns, surrounded the ship.
Having overhauled the Shadow, Blackie placed it in charge of another craft, then came gliding in alongside the Krazy Kat.
“MacGregor,” he said in a husky voice, “tell me what happened.” MacGregor told him. Hardly had he finished when a small motor launch carrying three little brown officers arrived. The officers were fairly aglow with gold and braid.
“A thousand pardons,” their leader began. He was allowed to go no farther.