"
They sprang into the boat, which luckily hung on the lee side, and
cleared the falls--fastened and coiled in the bow and stern. Often
during their long voyage they had rehearsed the launching of the boat
in a seaway--an operation requiring quick and concerted action.
"Ready, Doc?" sang out Boston. "One, two, three--let go!" The falls
overhauled with a whir, and the falling boat, striking an uprising sea
with a smack, sank with it. When it raised they unhooked the tackle
blocks, and pushed off with the oars just as a second shot hummed over
their heads.
"Pull, Boston; pull hard--straight to windward!" cried the doctor.
The tight whaleboat shipped no water, and though they were pulling in
the teeth of a furious gale, the hulk was drifting away from them, so,
in a short time, they were separated from their late home by a full
quarter-mile of angry sea. The cruiser had forged ahead in plain view,
and, as they looked, took in the try-sail.
"She's going to wear," said Boston. "See, she's paying off."
"I don't know what 'wearing' means, Boston," panted the doctor, "but I
know the Spanish nature. She's going to ram that hundred and thirty
tons of nitro.
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