When the ample supply of meat and vegetables was hoisted over the bulwarks, the few who had time to look were loud in their expressions of approval. Captain Gary hardly vouchsafed them more than a glance. To Duff, however, he briefly said:
"We had warning in the night that the Adams" (a sailing vessel in the old United States navy) "was making up the coast, and we had to pull out. We're short of water. Your grub comes in handy, though."
"I suppose then we might have been left, had we been a little later, or the wind had sprung up sooner."
The captain shrugged his shoulders, then glowered at Ralph, who was relating his adventures to several men about the cook's galley.
"When John Bull or Uncle Sam are as close as that fellow yonder, a slaver has to look out for himself. Now, Mr. Duff, you are a gunner, I understand. I want you to make ready our stern chaser. If they keep on firing we must try to cripple their sailing powers if we can. It's lucky she didn't happen to be a steamer."
But Duff, already somewhat piqued by Gary's apparent indifference as to whether the yawl was picked up or not, drew himself up stiffly.
"When I shipped with you, Captain Gary," he replied, "there was nothing said about my serving as a gunner. I must respectfully decline to fire on an American ship. I am too much of an American myself."
Without waiting for the burst of anger which he knew would follow this mutinous(?) delivery, the second mate wheeled and made his way to the galley, where he ordered Neb to serve him breakfast in the cabin.
Gary gave vent to a subdued oath or two, then bottled his wrath for a more auspicious occasion.
Meanwhile the Wanderer, when once fully under way, began to evince her remarkable sailing qualities, especially in light winds. She steadily drew away from the cruiser, whose people, having obtained the range, were sending shot after shot, with a view of crippling the schooner's sailing powers.