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 Tempest pulled the tiller over and turned the nose of the Nautilus straight towards the remains of the old barque. They were within about four hundred yards of her when the sharp crack of a rifle echoed over the water, and a bullet skimmed the surface uncomfortably near.

"Somebody is at home!" said Tempest with a puzzled expression. "I suppose that is just to show us how pleased they are to see us." He jibed the boat, which then lay with her sails flapping.

"It's Flagg," Dave suggested.

"Dear old Joe Flagg, late of Dogtooth City," Tempest muttered. "And he sent that bullet as a present. The old villain was n't drowned in that gale, Dave."

"What are you going to do now?" the boy asked. "We 're not going to turn tail at this stage."

"If Mr. Flagg imagines that one shot from a pop-gun is going to keep us off he never made a