it wouldn't work running in if there was an enemy close
behind us. Another thing, this Inlet will be watched in future. Now you
mark my words."] "Red buoy on the starboard bow," he called out to the
man at the wheel.

Morgan repeated the words to show that he understood them, and just then
Beardsley came up, having seen the useless jib brought on deck and
stowed away.

"Be careful and make no mistake, Marcy," said he. "It's a matter of life
and death with us now--and money."

"I can call off the color of every buoy between here and the Sound,"
replied the pilot confidently. "I took particular pains to remember the
order in which they were put out. Where are you hurt, Captain?" he
added, seeing that the man had let go of his shoulder and was now
holding fast to both elbows.

"I'm hurt in every place; that's where I am hurt," said Beardsley,
looking savagely at Marcy, as if the latter was to blame for it.
"Something hit me ker-whallop on this side, and the deck took me
ker-chunk on the other; and I'll bet there ain't a spot on ary side as
big as an inch where I ain't black and blue. You wasn't touched, was
you? But I thought I seen you come down when I did."

"I went down fast enough," answered Marcy. "I bumped my head pretty
heavily on the deck, but the worst hurt I got was right here. And I
declare, there's a bunch that don't belong to me. Is it a fracture of
the humerus, I wonder?"

"A which?" exclaimed the puzzled captain.

"I really believe the bone of my upper arm is broken," replied Marcy,
feeling of the bunch to which he had referred. "It doesn't hurt much
except when I touch it. It only feels numb."

Just then the howitzer spoke again, and another shrapnel flew wide of
the schooner and burst among the sand dunes. Another and another
followed at short intervals, and then the firing ceased. The launch had
given it up as a bad job; the pursuit was over and Marcy and the captain
were the only ones injured.

"She has either run hard and fast aground, or else she is amusing
herself with them buoys of our'n," said Beardsley, when he became
satisfied that the launch was no longer following in the schooner's
wake. "Now, where's that good-looking son of mine who fired the lucky
shot that tumbled that Yankee officer overboard? Whoever he is, I'll
double his wages. He ought to have it, for he saved the vessel and her
cargo. Let him show up."

The second mate obeyed the order, exhibiting the revolver that had fi