There was a new, deeper glow in Eph Somers’s eyes as he paced the bridge.  He was to have, at last, his wish to see the “Sudbury” fire a shot.

In a few minutes more the “Sudbury” was ranging tip alongside the schooner, though a full quarter of a mile away to windward.

“Mr. Fullerton, fire the blank shot at the stranger,” ordered Lieutenant Jack Benson.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The order was carried by a simple wave of the executive officer’s hand.  The petty officer in command behind the bow gun, looking for the signal, saw it and gave a low-toned order.

Bang! Eph was watching for it.  His eyes danced as he heard the sharp explosion and saw the cloud of white smoke, with the tongue of fire spitting through the center of it.  In most of us there is left some of the spirit of the old Norse pirate; Eph had a lot of it.

“The people on the schooner act as though they were bewildered,” smiled Jack, watching the schooner through his glass.  “It doesn’t look as though they expected any such order from us.  I wonder if they mean to obey?”

“Worse for them, if they don’t,” replied Ensign Fullerton, grimly.  “A solid shot across the bows, and a shot through their rigging after that.  What schooner has any chance to defy a ship of war?”

“There they go around,” cried Jack, barely above his breath, “They’ll heave to.”

“Of course,” smiled Fullerton.  “Your orders, sir?”

“Lower the power launch.  Send a corporal and four marines, and six sailors, armed, beside the boat-handlers.  Mr. Somers will take command, as he’s the only one of us who knows the fellow Gray by sight.”

Ensign Fullerton accordingly transmitted the orders, also ordering Midshipman Drake up to the bridge to serve as watch officer in Eph’s absence.  Hal Hastings was asleep in his cabin at the time.

In the meantime the schooner continued “hove to,” several men lining her starboard rail.

“Somehow, Mr. Fullerton,” muttered Lieutenant Jack, after Eph had departed in the power launch with his boarding crew, “I’m not much inclined to think that’s our schooner.”

“Somers seemed to think so.”

“Mr. Somers said it looked like the ‘Juanita.’  He’s too careful to commit himself to more than that.”

“We shall soon know, sir, anyway.”

It is probable that Eph was disappointed that the schooner had been stopped by anything less than a round shot through her rigging.  Yet, as he stood up in the stern of the launch, as it bounded over the waves, he felt a heap of satisfaction in the thought that he commanded the searching party, and that he did so by virtue of being an officer in the United States Navy.  And this, too, was a form of duty in which Ensign Somers wore his sword at his side.

“I hope they’re preparing a surprise for us,” chuckled Eph, as he looked about him at his armed crew.  “I hope the schooner’s people will try some mean trick for us, or attempt to put up a fight.  Whee!”