"
"I'm agin war," Scraggs quavered. "Gib, it's sure hell."
"Rats! It's invigouratin', Scraggsy. There ain't nothin' wrong
with war, Scraggsy, unless you happen to get killed. Then it's
like cholera. You can cure every case except the first one."
They had come inside the minimum range of the Mexican's long gun
now, so that only the one-pounders continued to peck at the
_Maggie_. Evidently the Mexican was as eager to get to close
quarters as Mr. Gibney, for he held steadily on his course.
"Well, it's time to put over the big stuff," Mr. Gibney remarked
presently. "Here's hopin' they don't pot me with rifle fire while
I'm extendin' my compliments."
As the first muzzle burst raked the Mexican Captain Scraggs saw
that most of the terrible blast of lead had gone too high.
Nevertheless, it was effective, for to a man the crews of the
one-pounders deserted their posts and tumbled below; seeing which
the individual in command lost his nerve. He was satisfied now
that the infernal _Maggie_ purposed ramming him; he had marvelled
that the filibuster should use shrapnel, after she had ranged
with shell (he did not know it was percussion shrapnel) and in
sudden panic he decided that the _Maggie_, mortally wounded,
purposed getting close enough to sink him with shell-fire if she
failed to ram him; whereupon the yellow streak came through and
he waved his arms frantically above his head in token of
surrender.
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