"I won't!" almost gasped Pete, tugging with all his might. "Can't you tack, Captain?"
The Elephant seemed to swing on her own account, so perfectly was she handled by the old sailor, but Pickering now had hold of the handle of the gaff, and it was not likely to get away from him.
"In she comes!" he said, but he was now grasping a rope that was knotted hard to the life-preserver.
"I'll let the boat kite along," said Kroom. "Don't let anybody see you pull that in."
He was keeping the sail of the Elephant full spread toward the bar and the inlet. That was why a man with a spy-glass, who came running down the beach and began to look, shouted back to some other men:
"There she comes! They're only trolling. They haven't stopped for anything. But the sail kind o' hides 'em."
The Elephant had not paused, to speak of, but behind her sail Captain Pickering was lifting something over her gun-wale.
"Conscience!" he exclaimed. "This here is part of my luggage that I thought went on the tug this morning. I saw all the rest of it stowed away safe enough, but I'd ha' lost this."
"Some o' the tug crews are the worst kind o' wreckers," remarked Captain Kroom. "We've beat 'em this time, unless there were some more life-preservers out."
"Guess not," said Pickering. "There isn't much in this that would be hurt by salt water. It's had a soak, that's all."