"Dere ain't but one chanct in fo'ty ob our makin' de gitaway," said Bill, gazing astern at the approaching vessel, "but I'll do the bes' I kin to shoo fly dat ornery marshal. Dere's a bit ob a squall makin' ah'ad, an' ef we kin hold on till it comes up, I'll try to fluke him when it's thick."
"My black friend, if your boat was any good you could make a getaway without trouble, but this craft is surely on the bum," said the thin-faced invalid ruefully. "I've no doubt you think her all right in her way, but her way is not that of those who expect to make either comfort or time when afloat—she's rotten."
"Look here," said Bahama Bill. "Yo' better take my advice an' not hit this sloop any more. If yo' don't think she's any good, why yo' come abo'd her? Why yo' want to run off with her, hey?"
"Why, indeed?" sighed the invalid, shifting his gun and gazing ahead at the gathering blackness of the squall, which was just one of those little puffs of smudge, a bit of breeze and drizzle, common to southerly wind in the Stream.
"Shall I run her off an' make the try fo' it?" asked the mate.
"Yes, do the best you can," said the iconoclast, nursing the barrel of the six-shooter. "Looks like we're up against it," he added to his pale-eyed partner, who seemed to grow more and more anxious as the pursuing schooner drew up in the wake of the Sea-Horse.
"Stand by to haul down the jib an' fo'sta's'l," ordered the mate, and just then the first puff of the squall heeled the sloop over slightly, and gave her greater speed. The rain came with the breeze, and for a moment the vessel fairly tore along with the increased pressure. It gave them considerable advantage over the schooner, for it struck them first.
Just as it began to show signs of slacking up, Bahama Bill gave his final orders. The head-sails were run down so as not to show against the sky, and the mainsail run off until the leech was on edge to the pursuing vessel, the Sea-Horse squaring away and running off at nearly right angles to her course. In this manner she presented little besides her mast to be seen in the darkness, her white canvas being now almost if not quite out of sight.
"Stan' up an' look astern, now," said Bahama Bill to the thin-faced man.