"Happen nothing!" Barcus roared. "She did it a' purpose! I had a notion to get that gun away before she did mischief with it, but when I knocked it out of her hand she flew at me like a wildcat, and before I knew what was up, I was slammed backward over the rail. God's mercy gave me a chance at the dory—and at that this giddy she-devil of yours was trying to cast me adrift!"
"I can't tell you how sorry I am," Alan responded gravely. "It's a hideous mix-up, and I'd no business dragging you into it"
"Amen to that!"
"There's more to tell—but one thing to be done first."
"And that?" Mr. Barcus inquired.
"To get rid of the lady," Alan announced firmly. "Those must be her people aboard that fisherman; and if we let her stop aboard she's certain to do something to cripple us—if she hasn't already; and if that boat ever overhauls us, I'm as good as done for—murdered. It sounds insane, but it's so."
"It doesn't sound insane to me, my friend," said Mr. Barcus ruefully, "not after the last half hour."
"Then take the wheel."
"What are you going to do?"
"Make the fisherman a present. You don't mind parting with the dory—if I pay for it?"
"Take it for nothing," Barcus grumbled.
