"They're threatenin' to blow us out of water with a torpedo," howled Sixty.
The trap had been sprung, but the filibuster was hoping to brazen his way through to freedom. But it was a forlorn hope.
"Where did you come from, Sixty?" demanded the lieutenant.
"I left New Orleans on the fruiter, Santa Maria," replied Sixty, "goin' on a hunt for this here brig which was reported somewhere in the track of steamers for Central America. A schooner from Belize was waitin' for me, an' yesterday we sighted the schooner from the steamer and I was put aboard. Then we went lookin' for the brig."
"Where's the schooner now?" inquired the lieutenant.
"She slipped away like a singed cat, a little while ago, and she's purty nigh hull down."
"She left you and the rest of those men, together with the two boats, behind?"
"That's the how of it."
"Then it must be that she saw us coming. If she'd been engaged in honest business, Sixty, she'd have stayed right here. But she didn't stay. You're treed, my man, and if there are not arms and ammunition in that old hulk, I'm no prophet."
"There are, sir," called Dick. "I've been in the hold and there are plenty of Krag-Jorgensens down there, and ammunition, too."