A fisherman waved his hand to the northward.
"Boat up there—Seawave—she's fast; what's the matter?" he replied.
But we were gone without further words, and soon came to the boat. She was long and narrow, built like a seiner, only not so heavy. Two men sat in her with lines out I hailed them as we came up.
"Want to catch that schooner out there," I yelled, pointing to the vessel. "Give you a hundred dollars if you land us alongside—quick."
"Got the money?" asked the man who appeared to own her.
We came alongside without delay, and I felt rather foolish for a moment. But the express messenger had the cash with him. He handed it over without a word, and the fisherman turned quickly to his engine.
The other man pulled up the anchor at once, and in half a minute we were under way, with the motor roaring out its glad sound in a series of rapid shots that were like the discharges of a rapid-fire gun.
"Take the boat and follow," I called to the men, and then Smith, the messenger, and myself were away in the wake of the schooner that was now a good five miles off and going steadily seaward. It would be a chase for fair.
"Can you make it?" I asked the owner, who sat in his oilskins at the engine.
"Sure t'ing we make 'em—'bout two, three hours, if the gas holds out."