ls of the disasters he would have received full information
from the illuminating profanity of the victims.

He knew well enough that Captain Candage was not performing with wilful
intent to do all that damage. In what little wind there was the schooner
was not under control. She was drifting until she got enough headway to
be steered. In the mean time she was doing what came in her way to do.
The _Polly_ had been anchored near the _Olenia_. As soon as her anchor
left bottom the schooner drifted up the harbor. Mayo knew, in a few
minutes, that Candage was bringing her about. An especial outbreak of
smashing signaled that manouver.

Mayo sniffed at the breeze, judged distance and direction, and then he
rushed forward and pounded his fist on the forecastle hatch.

"Rout out all hands!" he shouted. "Rouse up bumpers and tarpaulin!"

With the wind as it was, he realized that the schooner would point up in
the _Olenia_'s direction when Candage headed out to sea.

At last Mayo caught a glimpse of her through the fog. His calculation
had been correct. Headed his way she was. She was moving so slowly
that she was practically unmanageable; her apple-bows hardly stirred
a ripple, but with breeze helping the tide-set she was coming
irresistibly, paying off gradually and promising to sideswipe the big
yacht.

Mayo had a mariner's pride in his craft, and a master's devotion to
duty. He did not content himself with merely ordering about the men who
came tumbling on deck.

He grabbed a huge bumper away from one of the sailors who seemed
uncertain just what to do; he ran forward and thrust it over the rail,
leaning far out to see that it was placed properly to take the impact.
He was giving more attention to the safety of the _Olenia_ than he was
to what the on-coming _Polly_ might do to him.

Under all bowsprits on schooners, to guy the headstays, thrusts
downward a short spar, at right angles to the bowsprit; it is called the
martingale or dolphin-striker. The amateur riggers who had tinkered with
the Polly's gear in makeshift fashion had not troubled to smooth off
spikes with which they had repaired the martingale's lower end. Captain
Mayo ducked low to dodge a guy, and the spikes hooked themselves neatly
into the back of his reefer coat. Mr. Marston had bought excellent and
strong cloth for his captain's uniform. The fabric held, the spikes were
well set, the _Polly_ did not pause, and, therefore, the master of the
_Olenia