By this time the enemy was alongside. For the first time the Captain and crew of the Greyhound saw that the privateer was really and truly armed.
"Say, Lonely, had n't we better pull down that silly skull and cross-bones?" suggested Billie Steiner.
"Remember your oaths, men!" was the Captain's unrelenting reply.
The crew of the Greyhound would have fled in a body, had flight been possible. As it was, eight stalwart seamen stopped rowing, and looked with unhappy eyes at the enemy on their gunwale.
"Prepare for boarding!" said old Cap'n Steiner, hoarsely.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered Cap'n Sands.
The green nose of the Katie Wilson bumped the sturdy side of the Greyhound amidships, whereat the entire crew of the latter bolted for their cabin, locking themselves securely in and peering with anxious faces from the little square window in its side.
Cap'n Sands made use of the crook in his walking-stick as a boarding-iron, while his fellow privateer made fast the little boat. Then
