“Curse you!” he cried. “You’re running me down. Keep off, I say, or I’ll blow your stupid head off your shoulders.”
The next moment Harvey, with a sudden turn of the tiller, threw the Surprise full tilt at the oncoming sloop. There was a sharp crash of splintering wood, the tearing of head-sails, and a shock that shook the yachts from keel to topmast, as the Surprise rammed the big black sloop just by the foremast stays, snapping her own bowsprit short off and making an ugly hole in her own planking.
Leaping just as the boats crashed, and holding a coil of rope on his arm, Joe Hinman landed on the top of the big sloop’s cabin in the very midst of the confusion. A moment more and he had made a few quick turns about the mast, lashing the two yachts fast together at the moment when Harvey, followed by the rest of his crew, who came swarming out of the cabin, sprang aboard the strange sloop.
“I’ll shoot the first boy that steps a foot on this boat,” cried the man; but the words were scarce out of his mouth before they were upon him. He had been in danger before and knew how to make the most of his chances, and he stood, desperate but cool, as they made their rush.
There was a shot, and Jack Harvey, who was leading, gave a cry of pain, for a bullet just grazed his left shoulder. He stumbled and fell full at the feet of the man as another shot was fired and young Tim thought his right hand was gone.
The next moment Harvey had the man by the legs, while Allan Harding and George Baker and Joe made a rush for him. The man fell heavily, Joe Hinman clinging with both hands to one wrist, so that he could not fire again. They rolled over and over in the cockpit for a moment, the boys and he. Twice the man got to his knees and twice they dragged him down again; till, at length, young Tim, whose hand was not shot away, but only slightly wounded, managed to run in and deal the man a blow with the end of an oar, which stunned him for a moment, so that they got him flat and had bound the loose end of a halyard about him before he came fully to his senses. Then, as they proceeded to complete the job and tie him fast, hand and foot, he recognized Harvey for the first time.
“Hulloa!” he exclaimed. “Why, where have I seen you before? You’re not the chap in the pasture, are you?”
“The same,” said Harvey.
“Well, the game’s up,” said the man, coolly. “’Twas a mistake, and I knew it the moment after I had done it. I was a fool to hit you that night. It’s my temper, that’s what has beat me. It gets away from me sometimes. I dare say if I had gone along about my business you wouldn’t have followed me, eh?”
“Probably not,” answered Harvey. “That is why I am glad you knocked me down,” and then, taking a quick glance over the side of the boat, he cried: