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Updated: May 2, 2025
The Richard sped on her way at Gregory's command. Then he asked: "What did that sound like to you, Bronson?" The boatman answered promptly: "That was the bird you're looking for. I've heard the Fuor d'Italia's exhaust too many times to guess wrong." Dickie Lang nodded sagely in the darkness, while Bronson volunteered: "I think I know the one that nearly run us down too.
The Richard was in motion before the echoes of the Fuor d'Italia's gatlin-like exhaust had died away. Directing Bronson to take them alongside each of the vessels which composed the fleet, Gregory and Dickie Lang boarded the fishing vessels and conferred with the respective captains. Gregory's instructions were phrased with military directness.
A snarl, which changed quickly to a cry of rage as he noted that the two hulls were drifting sullenly toward each other. Robbed of his way, he could not escape. The Richard was already brushing the Fuor d'Italia's rail.
Before the echoes of the two shots had died away Mascola's body slid from the seat and fell in a heap upon the floor. Dickie drew her revolver and sprang to the rail. Sweeping the darkness of the Fuor d'Italia's cockpit with the rays of her light, she drew back. "Bandrist," she whispered to Gregory through whitening lips.
"Let me take her until we clear the coast," she said. "You gave me the shivers the way you grazed that reef off China Point." As they inclined their ears into the gray mist which enveloped them, they caught the murmur of the Fuor d'Italia's exhaust. Gregory surrendered the wheel. The girl listened to the rapid-fire pulsations of the boat ahead. "He's headed out to sea," she said.
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