"
"An', while some of us goes after it, the yacht will stand off, an' on,
waitin' orders, an' mebbe runnin' to Perim or Aden for letters."
"You have grasped the situation, exactly, Captain Stump."
The skipper shifted his cigar from one corner of his mouth to another.
"Sink me," he growled, "I thought it couldn't be gun-runnin' when there
was wimmin mixed up in it. Didn't I say so, Tagg?"
"You did," agreed Tagg again.
"Gun-running!" repeated von Kerber, "You mean carrying contraband arms,
yes? What put that into your head?"
"I've not bin cap'n of a ship nigh on fifteen years without larnin' the
importance of knowin' wot she's loaded with," said Stump. "Big or
little, in package or bulk, I go through her manifest, an' cheek, it,
too."
The Baron laughed softly. He was pale, probably as the result' of his
wounds, but he was inflexible in his resolve to arrive at an
understanding with his lieutenants before the remaining passengers put
in an appearance.
"_Ganz gut, herr capitan!_" he cried.
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