She
has a ram bow, and--yes, sponsors and guns. That's what she is, with
her funnels and bridge carried away."
"Isn't she right in our track, Boston?" asked the doctor, excitedly.
"Hadn't she better get out of our way?"
"She's got steam up--a full head; sec the escape-jet? She isn't
helpless. If she don't launch a boat, we'll take to ours and board
her."
The distance lessened rapidly--the cruiser plunging up and down in the
same spot, the derelict heaving to leeward in great, swinging leaps, as
the successive seas caught her, each one leaving her half a length
farther on. Soon they could make out the figures of men.
"Take us off," screamed the doctor, waving his arms, "and get out of
our way!"
"We'll clear her," said Boston; "see, she's started her engine."
As they drifted down on the weather-side of the cruiser they shouted
repeatedly words of supplication and warning. They were answered by a
solid shot from a secondary gun, which flew over their heads. At the
same time, the ensign of Spain was run up on the flag-staff.
"They're Spanish, Boston. They're firing on us. Into that boat with
you! If a shot hits our cargo, we won't know what struck us.
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