on deck it was, reprimanding the lookout.

"No, sir," the man was insisting, "she didn't show no light, sir. I'd 'a'
sighted her an hour ago, sir, if she had."

"We shall see," said Carter grimly. "Who's your relief?"

"Sennett."

"Let him take your place. Go aloft, Sennett."

As the lookout, crestfallen and surly, went below, Barnett said in
subdued tones:

"Upon my word, I shouldn't be surprised if the man were right. Certainly
there's something queer about that hooker. Look how she handles herself."

The vessel was some three miles to windward. She was a schooner of the
common two-masted Pacific type, but she was comporting herself in a
manner uncommon on the Pacific, or any other ocean. Even as Barnett
spoke, she heeled well over, and came rushing up into the wind, where she
stood with all sails shaking. Slowly she paid off again, bearing away
from them. Now she gathered full headway, yet edged little by little to
windward again.

"Mighty queer tactics," muttered Edwards. "I think she's steering
herself."

"Good thing she carries a weather helm," commented Ives, who was an
expert on sailing rigs. "Most of that type do. Otherwise she'd have jibed
her masts out, running loose that way."

Captain Parkinson appeared on deck and turned his glasses for a full
minute on the strange schooner.

"Aloft there," he hailed the crow's-nest. "Do you make out anyone
aboard?"

"No, sir," came the answer.

"Mr. Carter, have the chief quartermaster report on deck with the signal
flags."

"Yes, sir."

"Aren't we going to run up to her?" asked McGuire, turning in surprise to
Edwards.

"And take the risk of getting a hole punched in our pretty paint, with
her running amuck that way? Not much!"

Up came the signal quartermaster to get his orders, and there ensued a
one-sided conversation in the pregnant language of the sea.

"What ship is that?"

No answer.

"Are you in trouble?" asked the cruiser, and waited. The schooner showed
a bare and silent main-peak.

"Heave to." Now Uncle Sam was giving orders.

But the other paid no heed.

"We'll make that a little more emphatic," said Captain Parkinson. A
moment later there was the sharp crash of a gun and a shot went across
the bows of the sailing vessel. Hastened by a flaw of wind that veered
from the normal direction of the breeze the stranger made sharply to
windward, as if to obey.

"Ah, there she comes," ran the comment along the cruiser's quarter-deck.