"That's the ticket! We'll stoke up an' revive ourselves before the final 'eat," declared Bill. "For it's a case of brace up an' get a wiggle on if we're goin' to stop that dago swab from bussneckin' round us." "I'd shore like to put the hobbles on the rancorous hold-up," growled Broncho, as he sucked his cocoanut. "I feels kind o' gore-thirsty an' bulgin' with animosity this maunin'. I hungers for a show-down with them two boats. A long range duel makes me peevish a whole lot. My mood ain't in the saddle that-away, I wants to get clos't to my work. I jest itches to get my claws on to that 'ere maroonin' desperado and jolt him up some. I reckon he'd be some scarce o' tail-feathers when I'm through with him." "Our game will be to draw the boats as far away from the schooner as we can," put in Jack; "and then, if the worst comes to the worst, we must fight 'em off. No, Broncho, no hand-to-hand rough-and-tumble if we can avoid it. Remember Loyola's a woman, though she's got a man's name and a man's nerve." "It shore gets clean stampeded out o' my mind," muttered the cowpuncher. "Then I'm blind and useless," went on Jack. "That leaves three men and a boy to tackle two boat-loads of cutthroats. No, no, our rifles are our only chance." "Aye, Jack's right," agreed the bosun's mate. "We must revolute clear o' them jossers some'ow. We don't want it to come to fixin' bayonets to 'old 'em off." Their small refreshment finished, the castaways took to their oars again with renewed vigour; but despite their desperate efforts, the schooner's boats began slowly to close upon them. The cowboy, unaccustomed to rowing, with all his grit, was fast tiring out, and his oar began to cleave the water in uncertain jerks; he wasted his strength at the wrong moment, and began to find a difficulty in keeping time. Jack still pulled an easy, mechanical stroke, putting a steady, unchanging power into his work, whilst Tari seemed almost as fresh as at the start; but Bill Benson, with the moisture pouring off his face, though pulling with strength and determination, was beginning to breathe heavily, and the strain upon him showed in the haggard look of his eyes. Matters were looking very serious for the whaleboat's crew, and in that raging calm there was no hope of a helping sail appearing in sight. Jim was sent to Broncho's thwart to help him, and everything not absolutely necessary thrown overboard to lighten the whaleboat; but still the dago gained upon them, until, as the sun neared the meridian, the schooner was almost hull down, whilst the boats were within a cable's length and a half of their quarry. Loyola, with the rifles by her side, stood swaying gracefully to the swell as she held the boat's head on its course. She made a lovely picture, standing there so straight and fearless, her little sun-browned hands grasping the steering-oar and the big slouch hat shading her dauntless eyes from the glare of the tropical sun.