"Dubs," jeered Mr. Gibney, and sighted again. This time his
shrapnel burst neatly on the schooner. Almost simultaneously a
shell from the schooner dropped into the sacked coal on the
forecastle head of the _Maggie_ and enveloped her in a black pall
of smoke and coal dust. Captain Scraggs screamed.
"Tit for tat," the philosophical Gibney reminded him. "We can't
expect to get away with everything, Scraggsy, old kiddo." The
words were scarcely out of his mouth before the _Maggie's_
mainmast and about ten feet of her ancient railing were trailing
alongside. Mr. Gibney whistled softly through his teeth and
successfully sprayed the Mexican again. "It breaks my heart to
ruin that craft's canvas," he declared, and let her have it once
more.
"My _Maggie's_ tail is shot away," Captain Scraggs wailed, "an' I
only rebuilt it a week ago." Three more shots from the long gun
missed them, but the fourth carried away the cabin, leaving the
wreck of the pilot house, with the helmsman unscathed, sticking
up like a sore thumb.
"Turn her around and head straight for them," the gallant Gibney
roared. "She's a smaller target comin' bows on. We're broadside
to her now.
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