"That's the style, Jim!" jerked the blind stroke approvingly. "Let it rip! That's the medicine!"
"Shore!" gasped Broncho.
"An' here comes the dago diggin' out after us," cried Bill. "They're pipin' fust an' second cutters away aboard the pirateer."
The Black Adder had lowered two boats full of men, which now came dancing over the swell in chase of the whaleboat, for all the world like two bustling centipedes.
"Jim serve out a cocoanut per man. Easy all, boys. Let's get our wind and a little refreshment, then we'll soon show 'em what we can do," said Jack, lying on his oar.
"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."