"
"What happened her, Cap'n Am'zon?" queried Milt Baker, reaching for a
fresh piece of Brown Mule, and with a wink at the other idlers. "Did
she go down, or did she go up?"
"Both," replied Cap'n Amazon unruffled. "She went up in smoke _an'_
flame, an' finally sunk when she'd burned to the Plimsol mark.
"Every man of the crew and afterguard got safely into two boats. This
wasn't far to the westward of Fayal--in mebbe somewhere near the same
spot where that Portugee fisherman reports pickin' up the _Curlew's_
boat.
"When the _Mailfast_ burned the sea was calm; but in six hours a sudden
gale came up and drove the two boats into the southwest. They wasn't
provisioned or watered for a long v'y'ge, and they had to run for it a
full week, ev'ry mile reeled off takin' them further an' further from
the islands, and further and further off the reg'lar course of
shipping."
"Where'd they wind up at, Cap'n Am'zon?" asked Milt.
"Couldn't hit nothin' nearer'n the Guineas on that course," growled
Cap'n Joab.
"There you're wrong," the substitute storekeeper said.
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