Having gained the information he wanted thus easily and unexpectedly, the officer returned to his hotel for supper and to write a despatch that should go by that night's boat. After delivering this on board the steamer he determined to take one more look at the suspected sloop; and strolling leisurely in that direction, reached the wharf just in time to see her glide out from the slip and head for the open sea.
Here was an emergency that called for prompt action, and running back to the hotel, the young man paid his bill, secured his bag, and gained the steamer just as that fine American-built vessel was about to take her departure for ports of the upper sound. Shortly afterwards, a little beyond the harbor mouth, the big brilliantly lighted steamer swept past a small dimly outlined craft, on whose deck somebody was waving a lantern so that she might not be run down.
Of course it has been understood long ere this that the sloop Fancy was a smuggler. She was not only that, but was also the boldest, most successful, and most troublesome smuggler on Puget Sound. The one person at all acquainted with the shabby old craft and as yet unaware of her true character was Alaric Todd. His slight knowledge of smugglers having been gained through books, he thought of them as being only a sort of half pirates, either Spanish or French, who flourished during the last century. Thus, although he did not approve of either the sloop's passengers or cargo, it did not occur to him that they were being carried in defiance of law until about the time that steamer's lights were disappearing in the distance.
The boy's hands were still smarting from an unaccustomed hauling on ropes that had resulted in hoisting the big mainsail, and now he lay on deck well forward, where he had been told to keep a sharp lookout and report instantly any vessel coming within his range of vision. Before a fresh beam wind the Fancy was slipping rapidly through the water, with Captain Duff steering, Bonny doing odd jobs about deck, and the passengers confining themselves closely to the hold. After the young mate had waved his signal lantern to the steamer, he extinguished both it and the side lights that had been burning until now, leaving the binnacle lamp carefully shaded as the only light on board. With nothing more to do at present, he threw himself down beside Alaric, and the boys began a low-voiced conversation.
"What made you put out those lights?" asked the latter. "I thought all ships carried lights at night."
"We don't," laughed Bonny. "They'd give us away to the cutters, and we'd be picked up in less'n no time. I'm mighty glad that steamer isn't a revenue-boat."
"Why?"
"Because she's so fast. There's only one craft in the sound can beat her, and that's the Flyer, running between Tacoma and Seattle. The City of Kingston is a good one, though. She used to be a crack Hudson River boat, and came out here around the Horn; or rather not exactly that, but through the Strait of Magellan. That's a tough place, I can tell you."
"I suppose it is," replied Alaric. "But, Bonny, tell me something more about those cutters. Why should they want to catch us?"
"For running 'chinks' and 'dope.'"