one," said Ives. "How long would you guess that craft to be?"
They were now within a mile of the schooner. Edwards scrutinised her calculatingly.
"Eighty to ninety feet."
"Say 150 tons. And she's a two-masted schooner, isn't she?" continued Ives, insinuatingly.
"She certainly is."
"Well, I've a hunch that that ship is a lucky find for any ship, but particularly for this ship."
"Great Cæsar!" cried the ensign excitedly. "Do you think it's her?"
A buzz of electric interest went around the group. Every glass was raised; every eye strained toward her stern to read the name as she veered into the wind again. About she came. A sharp sigh of excited disappointment exhaled from the spectators. The name had been painted out.
"No go," breathed Edwards. "But I'll bet another dinner"
"Mr. Edwards," called the captain. "You will take the second cutter, board that schooner, and make a full investigation."
"Yes, sir."
"Take your time. Don't come alongside until she is in the wind. Leave enough men aboard to handle her."
"Yes, sir."
The cruiser steamed to within half a mile of the aimless traveller, and the small boat put out. Not one of his fellows but envied the young ensign as he left the ship, steered by Timmins, a veteran bo's'n's mate,
