"Here they are!" yelled a hoarse voice. "We've downed one of 'em!"
Dick started up. From forward and aft men were climbing over the derelict's side and rushing toward the main hatch. Quick as a wink he caught up one of the Krag-Jorgensens, placed himself over Carl and brought the gun to his shoulder.
Sixty was bearing down on Dick, and at his back were two swarthy sailors who had the appearance of Mexicans, or Spaniards.
"Sheer off!" shouted Dick, menacingly, pointing the rifle full at Captain Sixty. "Lay a finger on me or my mate and I'll shoot."
There was that in the boy's eyes which told of resolute determination, and Sixty and the others drew to an abrupt halt.
"Put down that gun, you young fool!" ordered Sixty, angrily. "All we wanted was to get on this brig. You've made a fine mess of it, I must say."
"You've got on the brig," returned Dick, steadily, "but you haven't captured us, yet. Leave us alone—that's my advice to you."
"There's a chap on the schooner that's a halfway doctor," said Sixty. "Don't you want him to look after your friend?"
"We're not going on the schooner, Captain Sixty, and I tell you flat that before long you're going to answer for your villainous work of the last few days. What kind of a pirate are you, anyhow?"
"This is my boat," blustered Sixty, "and I've got the right to take her. You was lame in tryin' to keep me off. It was you two that first began usin' guns."