“Hand over those papers to Craig,” he ordered shortly, “and be lively about it.  I have n’t anything to do with that affair, and I don’t think you will have much more from now on.  You are my prisoner, and you are good for a ten spot at least.  Stand up, you coward.”  He forced him back against the rail, and glanced about the deck.  The boatswain was coming aft.

“Well, Sloan, how did you find things?”

“All serene, sir; the whole crew bottled up, and mighty little fight left in them.”

“The engine room?”

“The engineer was a bit ugly, sir, and had to be man-handled proper.  He ‘s lyin’ in a coal bunker with a sore head, cussin’ blue.  But the assistant is a young fellar, an’ kin run the engines.  I left him in charge with a couple o’ lads lookin’ after him.”

“Who has the wheel?”

“Somers, sir.”

“All right; have steam kept up, and make the course south, southeast.  Send a couple of men here to get this boat on deck.  Put all the fire-room fellows who won’t work into the forecastle with the others.  Here, take this man along also.  He ’s the Captain, but no better than the rest.”

Henley started back, with some crazy hope of resistance, but the great fist of the boatswain gripped his collar.

“Come on, you,” he said, jerking him savagely.  “Yer bloody pirate; make another crack, an’ I ’ll land yer one.  Is he that Henley, sir?” of the Lieutenant.

“Yes; ever hear of him?”

“Have I!  Aye, many the time.  He ’s wanted in Galveston, sir, for somethin’ worse than runnin’ arms—­it was a knifin’ job, sir.”

“And not the last either, if what Craig says is true.  Take the fellow forward.  Ah! there comes the Saline now—­just poking her nose out from behind the ridge.”

I looked as he pointed, clutching the recovered papers in my hands, and forgetful of Henley.  The sun had discovered an opening in the cloud bank, and a long shaft of golden light played across the water, gleaming with white caps.  Into its radiance the revenue cutter was gliding, outlined against the leafy shade of Cosmos Island, her flag standing out like a board in the fresh breeze, her cutwater churning up a mass of foam.  She made a beautiful picture, one that fascinated me for the moment, and caused me to forget my own immediate incidents.  I was brought back to a realization of the situation by Hutton’s hand on my shoulder.

“Nice-looking old girl, but, like all of her sex, a gay deceiver.  Slowest tub that ever floated a U. S. flag; any coal barge could get away from her in a fair wind.  Take her half an hour now to get within hailing distance, and the old man raging to learn the news.  How do you feel? still groggy?”

“All right, except for a stiff headache.”

“Then come into the cabin.  There is nothing more to do on deck, and I want to get sight of the ship’s papers.  Where was the fellow cleared for?”