his time the old skipper did not mind--at
least, he permitted it.

There was, of course, some concern along with our happiness; first of
importance being the declining day that held scarcely more than an hour
of light. Had it been otherwise, had the blessing of good sailing
weather come to us earlier, we might have held an immediate council of
war; but this for the present could be left. It was a profound
disappointment, though, and showed in our strained silence. Gates stood
at my elbow.

"How'll we find her in the morning--if we don't catch up pretty soon?" I
asked.

"I was thinking of that, sir. Now, as she sees we can sail circles
around her with a good breeze, she won't hold the same course, and can
give us a mighty slip during the night. We're almost in----" he
hesitated, and again ventured: "We're almost in close enough to send a
shot across her bows, sir, if you wish to bring her about!"

Tommy, overhearing, let out a yell of joy. The old skipper's suggestion
electrified us all, particularly myself, for it promised that he would
see this affair through at any and all costs--and I had been
apprehensive regarding the attitude of Gates, lest his love for me, or
for the _Whim_, cause him to balk short of the danger line. So, hastily
imploring Monsieur to hug him again, I dashed below for one of the
rifles. This arm was a neat high-power sporting model, but I thought it
might persuade our kidnaper to look around.

Coming up, however, I found that another plan had been adopted. Gates
and Tommy were busily unlacing the canvas cover from our brass cannon.
While it was only used for signaling, it could make a stunning racket.
Bilkins was holding a box of blank shells, each containing somewhere
near twenty drams of black powder. As I approached, Tommy was excitedly
arguing with Gates who, this time, seemed to demur.

"It's not of the _Orchid_ I'm thinking, sir," he turned appealingly to
me, "but ourselves! Miss Nancy--as Mr. Thomas calls this young howitzer,
here,--won't stand much fooling. She warn't built for it, and if we go
pressing her too hard she'll bust a stay--which is the same, sir, as
sending harf of us to the sick-bay!"

"What I want to do," Tommy explained, "is load her up with sinkers and
truck like that, and touch her off right! Just a blank won't tell those
devils anything, but if we pepper 'em with a hat full of old junk
they'll haul-to in a jiffy!"

"Surest thing in the world," I cried. "Suppos