CHAPTER XIII.
CLOSING IN.
Dick, as soon as he had spoken to Carl, ran out of the cabin and took ahasty look over the side of the wreck.
The schooner was now so close that he could see the men on her decksplainly. Some were putting another charge in the small cannon at thebow, while several more were loading a similar cannon whose muzzleswung over the taffrail.
"They're going to keep it up, matey," announced Dick, as Carl stole outto him. "Pretty soon they'll put another shot into us."
"Meppy dey vas drying to shcare us oudt," returned Carl. "Oof Sixdyvants to safe der cargo oof der prig he vouldn't send her to derpottom."
There came another roar, this time from the cannon at the stern ofthe schooner. A round shot sailed over the top of the charthouse anddropped into the sea, far to leeward, sending up a small geyser ofwater.
"Ve can shtandt all dot kindt oof shooding dot dey gif us," said Carl.
"They'll not give us that kind right along, mate. I don't think they'llput any shells into us between wind and water, but they'll bang away atthe deck houses."
By then the schooner had crossed the stern of the wreck and was makingready to tack about and come up on the other side.
"They're going to put a few shots into us from starboard," hazardedDick.
"Couldn't ve pick off some oof dose fellers mit der rifles?" queriedCarl.
"We could," replied Dick, "but we're not going to. We've got the rightof this, now, and if we shot anybody we'd be in the wrong almost asmuch as Sixty. We'll let the old scoundrel play his hand, and see whatit amounts to."
The boys could see that those on the schooner had loaded both guns. Twomen stood by ready to fire them, but neither was discharged.
"Vy don'd dey shoot?" asked Carl. "Vat vas dey hanging pack for?"
"Ah!" muttered Dick, "they're getting a couple of boats in the water."
"Vat does dot mean?"
"They're going to close in. Get your rifle, Carl. From the looks ofthings, mate, we're going to have hot work."
"Ve don'd surrenter?"
"I'm a Britisher, and I don't know the word!" answered Dick.
"Me, neider," said Carl. "I vas American mit a Dutch accent, aber Idon'd gif in to dot gang. Led dem shood deir olt headts off."
"Our heads will be the ones they'll try to shoot off."
Rifles in hand, the boys watched the boats as they struck the water.Five men tumbled into each of them, and the men were all armed.
Dick laughed softly.
"We're making them take a lot of trouble, mate," said he.
"Oof ve hat a gun like vat dey got, py shinks, ve vould gif dem asmooch fighdt as dey vanted. Ah, ha! der poats iss shtarting dis vay,und vone iss coming py der front oof der wreck und der odder py derrear end. Now vat you t'ink iss going to habben?"
"We're about at the end of our rope, Carl," said Dick. "Those boats aregoing to board us under cover of a couple of shots from the big guns.The outlook is getting dark. This way! We'll get down the main hatchinto the 'tween decks. After the broadside, we'll come up again andfight off the boats."
It was not a time for words. The gunners on the schooner were preparingto fire, and if Dick and Carl got out of the way they would have tohurry.
The main hatch was open, just as Dick had left it when he had gone downafter the rifles. Carl, who was following Dick, had no more than gothis feet on the ladder, when there were two smashing reports, coming soclose together that they sounded almost as one.
Dick, at the time, was standing on the ladder, up to his knees inwater, urging Carl to hurry. The firing drowned his words.
Instantly there was a splintering crash, and the wreck rocked andheaved as though it would break apart. But Dick Ferral was not thinkingof the derelict, just then. His every thought was for Carl.
The Dutch boy had pitched forward, the upper part of his body lyinghalf over the hatch coaming.
"Carl!" cried Dick, frantically.
There was no answer. Carl's dangling feet swung backward and forwardwith the swaying of the wreck.
Dick, his heart in his throat, leaped up the ladder, bounded out on thedeck, lifted Carl in his arms and carried him away from the hatch.
There was a smear of red on Carl's forehead, his face was deathly whiteand his eyes closed.
One of the cannon balls had knocked a hole in the bulwarks of thebrig and scattered splinters all over that part of the boat. Carl,undoubtedly, had been struck by one of the flying fragments.
Kneeling at his chum's side, Dick laid a hand on his breast, then feltof his wrist. What he learned reassured him.
Hurrying to the galley he got what was left of a kettle of fresh water,ran back with it, tore a strip from the piece of canvas with which hehad signaled the schooner, and began bathing Carl's forehead.
There was an ugly gash in the temple. So far as Dick could discover,however, the splinter had not done any serious damage.
"Here they are!" yelled a hoarse voice. "We've downed one of 'em!"
Dick started up. From forward and aft men were climbing over thederelict's side and rushing toward the main hatch. Quick as a wink hecaught up one of the Krag-Jorgensens, placed himself over Carl andbrought the gun to his shoulder.
Sixty was bearing down on Dick, and at his back were two swarthysailors who had the appearance of Mexicans, or Spaniards.
"Sheer off!" shouted Dick, menacingly, pointing the rifle full atCaptain Sixty. "Lay a finger on me or my mate and I'll shoot."
There was that in the boy's eyes which told of resolute determination,and Sixty and the others drew to an abrupt halt.
"Put down that gun, you young fool!" ordered Sixty, angrily. "All wewanted was to get on this brig. You've made a fine mess of it, I mustsay."
"You've got on the brig," returned Dick, steadily, "but you haven'tcaptured us, yet. Leave us alone--that's my advice to you."
"There's a chap on the schooner that's a halfway doctor," said Sixty."Don't you want him to look after your friend?"
"We're not going on the schooner, Captain Sixty, and I tell you flatthat before long you're going to answer for your villainous work of thelast few days. What kind of a pirate are you, anyhow?"
"This is my boat," blustered Sixty, "and I've got the right to takeher. You was lame in tryin' to keep me off. It was you two that firstbegan usin' guns."
"But it was you that lured us aboard the _Santa Maria_! And it was youthat threw Motor Matt off the steamer! Why shouldn't we use guns whenwe saw you coming for us? You're a lawless scoundrel, and if you hadwhat was coming you'd be swinging from the yardarm of a man-o'-war! Iwish there was a Yankee fighting ship in these waters! You'd have shortshrift to your deserts, Captain Jim Sixty!"
"It's easy enough to blow," scowled Sixty, "but your talk don't amountto nothin'. I'm on my own deck, and that makes me high cockalorum. Dropthat gun, I tell you, before we lay you on the deck alongside yourmate."
"Drop me on the deck!" shouted Dick, recklessly. "Keep up yourlawlessness, if you dare!"
Dick swerved his eyes a little to get a fleeting glance of the nine menwho had boarded the wreck with Sixty.
"What sort of swabs are you?" he cried. "Don't you know the riskyou are taking in doing the dirty work for a ruffian like Sixty? Heabandoned the brig--left her to her fate--and now the rest of you canpick him up and slant away. I'll stay here with my mate, and take careof him, but we'll neither of us set a foot on your pirate schooner!"
Dick was so wrought up that he would have defied an army if one hadbeen mustered against him. He was hopelessly outnumbered, and therecould have been but one result had events been allowed to take theircourse.
But the unexpected happened, and it happened just then when the braveFerral, standing over the form of his unconscious chum, was defyingSixty and his men to do their worst.
"Ahoy, the brig!"
The faint hail came from the schooner.
"Ahoy!" roared Sixty, turning and making a trumpet of his hands.
Sixty's hands fell from his lips and he gave a jump for the side of thebrig. The rest of the men ran with him. For an instant something likepanic laid hold of the entire party.
Dick, thrilled with a wild feeling of hope, rushed for the batteredbulwarks of the wreck--and stood there, gasping with astonishment.
Within fifty feet of the brig, bow on, lay the _Grampus_. There was nota sign of life about her, but there she lay, silent, menacing, a thingof power fraught with deadly peril for the lawless men on the wreck.
Sixty, regaining his wits, gave vent to a fierce oath and jerked amusket from the hands of one of the sailors. He fired, but the bulletglanced harmlessly from the rounded steel deck of the submarine.
The next moment the top of the conning tower began lifting slowly.
Motor Matt's Submarine; or, The Strange Cruise of the Grampus Page 13