The pilot was certainly a prudent young man, and he was not always so; but Louis had anticipated him, and kept out of Gray's reach. The struggle continued, and Scott was vigorously manipulating the lasso so that Gray could not obtain an instant's respite from the strain upon his neck. The pressure was rapidly doing its work upon him, for he was beginning to writhe and struggle for breath. He had ceased to yell and to swear, for he lacked the wind to do or say anything. He had soon weakened so much that the time for more decided action had come; and Scott initiated it. The lassoer had drawn his victim towards him till he was directly in front of the cabin door. Without announcing his intention to his associates, the pilot threw down his lasso into the standing-room, and then leaped down himself directly upon the head of Gray. In his weakened and gasping condition he could not resist the force of this onslaught, and he sank down upon the deck beneath his persecutor. "Take one of his arms, and I will take the other, Flix!" called Louis, as he sprang upon the fallen Scotchman, and seized his right arm, while Felix did the same with his left. "Have the lanyards all ready, Morris!" Scott had seized his victim by the throat, and held his head down upon the deck. Just at this critical moment Francisco, who had heard the yells of Gray, put in an appearance, and, seeing the desperate situation of the smuggler, he was rushing forward to his assistance. Morris threw the lines upon the deck, wheeled about, drew his revolver, and faced the wheelman. "Back to the pilot-house, or you are a dead man!" said Morris, as he pointed his weapon at the head of the helmsman. Francisco halted, and looked at the shining revolver, which was a high-cost one his father had bought for him in London. Louis wondered from Morris's words whether or not he had been reading "blood-and-thunder" stories; but the boy was resolute enough for the occasion, and cool enough to remember what Louis had said about shooting in the present affair. The Spaniard could not understand a word that he had spoken. "_Va a la casa del piloto!_" (Go to the pilot-house!) shouted Louis with vim enough to show that he was in earnest as well as Morris. Francisco evidently did not like the situation at all. He had drawn a long _cuchillo_, or knife, and he was certainly a dangerous man. "Fire, Morris, if he moves on you!" called Louis, as he saw the blade gleaming in the moonlight. Probably Francisco realized that a ball from the revolver could travel faster than his knife, and perhaps he had less sympathy for the Scotchman than he would have had for one of his other associates, for he backed away from the dangerous vicinity to the barrels of the weapon, and returned to the pilot-house. The steamer had fallen off her course, but she presently came back to it, indicating that the wheelman had returned to his duty.