ng us up to within a hundred and
fifty fathoms of her!"

The mate spun the wheel to starboard, and the schooner, answering, drew
nearer to the enemy.

"Close enough--port your helm," cried Job.

But even as the _Tiger_ swung into position for a broadside, there came
the roar of the pirate's guns, and a shot crashed through the forestays,
while others, falling short, threw spray along the deck.

"All right below," shouted Captain Job, steady as a church. "Ready a
starboard broadside!" And at his sharp "Fire!" the five cannon spoke in
quick succession. The deck rocked beneath Jeremy's feet, where he stood
by the companion, ready to carry Job's orders below.

As the dense smoke was swept away forward on the wind, they could see
the _Revenge_, her rigging still further damaged by the volley, going
about on the starboard tack, and making straight for the shore.

"Put your helm hard down and bring her to the wind!" roared Job, at the
same time jumping toward the mainsheet.

The schooner swung to starboard, heeling sharply as she caught the wind
abeam, and was in hot pursuit of her enemy before a full minute had
passed.

CHAPTER XXXV

Little by little the _Tiger_ pulled up to windward of the buccaneer and
the men below in the gun deck could be heard cheering as their advance
brought the black sloop more and more nearly opposite the yawning mouths
of the _Tiger's_ port carronades.

The shore was now less than half a mile distant. Though making all
possible speed, the pirate schooner seemed to rise on the waves with a
more sluggish heave than before. Job, watching her through the spyglass,
turned to Isaiah Hawkes.

"Don't she look sort o' soggy to you?" he asked. "I can't quite make out
whether that's a hole in her planking or--by the Great Hook Block! See
there, now, when she lifts! One of our shots landed smack on her
waterline. No wonder they're trying to beach her!"

A moment later the _Tiger_ had hauled fairly abreast and the two
schooners plunged along a bare hundred yards apart. Not a head showed
above the high weather bulwark of the _Revenge_. Only the muzzles of her
guns peered grimly from their ports in her black side. There was
something sinister about this apparently deserted ship, lurching
drunkenly shoreward, with her torn sails and broken rigging flapping in
the breeze, and the pirate flag flying at her peak.

Job made a megaphone of his hands and raised his voice in a hail.

"Ahoy, _Reve