"I know her, sir," replied Luke, promptly. "I beg to say no, sir. Not unless she has twice the ballast that's in her now. I'd like permission to say a word more, sir."
"Speak out! What is it?"
"A ten-gun brig in the Sound can't catch that New London pirate—"
"The Boxer is cruising around that station," interrupted the captain. "She's a clipper to go."
"No use," said Luke, shaking his head. "The old whaler'll get away."
"What would you do, then?" roughly demanded another officer.
"A strong corvette, or two of 'em, off Point Judith and Montauk, to catch her as she runs out," said Luke. "She'll fight any small vessel. She carries a splendid pivot-gun, and she has six long sixes. She will be handled by prime seamen."
"Gentlemen," remarked the captain, "I agree with him. We have found the advice of this man Watts to be correct in every case. I believe he is right, now. We must do as he says or that pirate, perhaps others with her, will escape us. I will put him in charge of the Termagant. I'll feel safer about her, if she is sailed home by a man with a rebel rope around his neck."
There was a general expression of assent, and then Watts spoke again.
"I want Brackett, if I can have him," he said. "I never had a better mate. There's fight in him, too."