A FAT RASCAL COMES TO GRIEF
tall timber," he muttered disgustedly. "But what about Goodwin?"
The Dauntless turned to follow, but her master was unfamiliar with the shoals and reefs lying close to the land. He reluctantly slackened speed to feel his way inshore. The Juan Lopez, handled by one who knew where he was going, made straight for a small bight of the coast where the jungle crept, tall and dense, to the beach.
The marines opened fire when the converging courses of the two vessels brought them within extreme rifle-range of each other. The Juan Lopez showed no intention of heaving to. Her crew could be seen running to and fro, working furiously at the tackle of the boats, making ready to drop them overside. The volleys from the Dauntless seemed only to quicken their industry.
"Oh, for a Maxim or a Colt's automatic!" sighed the captain of marines. "I'd make that wicked old tub look like a porous plaster. Who ever dreamed the beggars would do anything but surrender?"
General Quesada had obviously concluded
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