seized the tiller to reinforce the argument, and wrenched at it
until I hit him, and Fred threatened him with the only rifle.

"Get up forward!" Fred ordered; but Georges Coutlass would not go.

"Gassharamminy!" he snarled. "You want my girl! I will fight the whole
damned crew before I let her out of the hollow of my arm.

"All right, touch that tiller again and I'll kill you!" Fred warned him.

"Touch my girl, and you kill me or get out and swim!" Coutlass retorted.

Will was up forward with Brown, looking out for breakers through the
spray that swept over us continually. I watched the glow that rode
above the launch's funnel, marveling, when I found time for it, at the
mystery of why the cotton sail should hold. The firm, somewhere in
Connecticut, who made that export calico, should be praised by name,
only that the dye they used was much less perfect than the stuff and
workmanship; their trademark was all washed out.

Suddenly Will dodged under the bellying sail, throwing up both hands,
and he and Brown screamed at me: "To your left! Go to your left!
Rocks to the right!"

The Germans had passed us, but not by much, for the short steep seas
were tossing their propeller out of the water half the time. Because
of the course I had taken the wind was setting slightly from us toward
them, and I could have sworn they heard Will's voice. Yet there was
nothing for it but to put the helm over, and as I laid her nearly
broadside to the wind a great wave swept us. At that the Greek, the
Goanese, and all the natives in the hold set up a yell together that
ought to have announced our presence to the Seven Sleepers.

I held the helm up, and let her reel and wallow in the trough. Now I
could see the fangs of rock myself and the white waves raging around
them. See? I could have spat on them! There was a current there that
set strongly toward the rocks, for a backwash of some sort helped the
helm and we won clear, about a third full of water, with the crew too
panicky to bail.

"Hold her so!" yelled Fred in my ear. "Don't ease up yet! If we get
too close and they see us, I've the rifle! They haven't seen us yet!"

"Rocks ahead again!" yelled Will. "To the left again!"

We were in the gaping jaws of a sort of pocket, and it was too late to
steer clear.

"Throw the anchor over!" I roared, "and let go everything."

Will attended to the anchor. Fred was too anxious for the safety of
the only rifle to trust