"Poor ole Jack, too," observed Bill. "That blindness o' his cuts him to the quick for sure. I watches 'im balin' with the blood runnin' from his lips where he's bitin' of 'em. 'E's an old bird, is Jack Derringer; keeps a stiff upper lip an' don' show much, but that blood lets out how fretted 'e is an' gouged up in 'is innards." Broncho nodded in silence, for Jack's misfortune hit his old bunkie too hard for him to feel inclined to talk about it. Suddenly a vessel was descried to windward, flying down upon them under a close-reefed topsail, flinging the surges to right and left of her and dipping to her cat-heads at each dive. As she lifted her stern her deck could be plainly seen, crowded with men, who crouched under her bulwarks in glistening groups. Her low black hull battled in a field of raging foam, and her long topmasts swung madly across the heavens as she rolled. She was evidently an Island schooner. "Jack, it's the _Black Adder_," cried Loyola nervously, after one glance at the nearing vessel. "Is she close?" inquired the rolling-stone. "We'd be standin' by water-tight doors in the _Dido_," declared Bill. "Near enough to throw the shorthorn steerin' with a thirty-foot rope," put in Broncho. As the schooner surged by, her crew manned the rail, staring wild-eyed at the whaleboat. Aft by the helmsman stood a long, thin man with a scraggy beard, and so near was the flying schooner that the movement of his jaws could be seen as he chewed steadily. Suddenly he bent forward, and shading his eyes with one hand, gazed fixedly at the castaways. "It's Dago Charlie!" gasped Loyola, with a horror in her eyes. "By God, he's seen us!" yelled the bosun's mate wildly. Sure enough the man began brandishing his arms in furious gesticulations, and a deep roar reached the whaleboat from the combined lungs of the stranger's crew. "Bah! You swabs! We don't care that for you!" roared Bill Benson savagely, standing up and snapping his fingers. "Thar's squaws among 'em," exclaimed Broncho with surprise. "Island girls," muttered Jack. The schooner had hardly got a quarter of a mile to leeward when she put her helm down and hove-to with a tarpaulin in the rigging. "Goin' to lie by us till it moderates," said Bill. "Now he's spotted us he won't let us go if 'e can 'elp it. 'E knows it's the gallows for 'im if we gets clear, and 'e'll stand by to pounce on us. 'E'll get what he ain't lookin' for if 'e comes protrudin' here." "What for of a play would it be if we-alls sends some lead after him, as a sorter hint to move on?" inquired Broncho. "Wouldn't do!" pronounced Jack. "We'd get it all back with interest. If it moderates at all to-night we'll put the horizon between us." "I'm jest pining to shoot him up some," declared Broncho bloodthirstily. "Let 'im begin the action," said Bill grimly. "We'll finish it!" Loyola said nothing, but cowered closer to Jack with big, anxious eyes.