"No 'elp for it, sir," said the skipper, bridling like a bantam. "Didn't I try to save _my_ cargo, off Savannah, and didn't I lose my sloop to boot? Didn't I now, sir?--Poor old girl, mebby she's our chaser out 'ere this very minute." "Try--try more turpentine," said Murguia weakly. "Yes, or salt bacon, sir, or cognac, or the woodwork, or any blarsted thing I see fit, sir!" The little skipper hit out each item with a step downward to the deck, and five minutes later Murguia groaned, for bale after bale came tumbling out of the hold. Then over they began to go, the first, the second, the third, and another, and another, and after each went a moan from Anastasio. He leaned through the window to see one tossing in the waves, then suffered a next pang to see the next follow after. It was an excruciating cumulus of grief. The trooper regarded him quizzically. Destruction of merely worldly goods had become routine for him. He returned to his contemplation of the two funnels. The skipper came back, dripping with pray. "The wind's changin'," he said, "and that'll beat down the sea some." "Reckon they'll get us?" Driscoll asked. Murguia took the query as an aggravation of woe, and he turned wrathfully on the trooper. "Don't you see we're busy?" "I see you're very damn sullen, _gra_-cious me!--Reckon they will, captain?" "We'll be eatin' a United States of America supper, chained, sir." "Now look here," said Driscoll plaintively, "_I_ don't want to get caught." "But I hope as you'll bide with us, sir?" "Still, I was just thinking--now that smoke----" "And I'm a thinkin' you don't see much smoke. We're keepin' out o' sight as long as God'll let us." "But, Captain, why not smoke up--big? Just wait now--this ain't any of my regiment, I know that--but listen a minute anyway. Well, once or twice when we were in a fix, in camp, say, and we knew more visitors were coming than was convenient, w'y, we'd just light the campfires so they would smoke, and then--meantime--we'd light out too. Old Indian trick, you know." The skipper was first impatient. But as that did no good, he cocked himself for a laugh. Then his mouth puckered to a brisk attention, and at the last word he jumped to his feet. "Damme!" he said, and went thumping down the steps again. He splashed through the water on deck, minding the stiff wind not at all, and dived into the engine-room. "Soft coal!" gasped Murguia with relief. It was pouring from the stacks in dense black clouds. The captain returned. "We'll try to save the rest o' that 'ere cotton, sir," he said.