Ben Bowman and Buck Lingley were to carry a line on board of the prize, and make fast the instant we came alongside of her. Colonel Shepard was to get on board of the Islander as quick as he could, and give his orders to Captain Blastblow. I did not apprehend any difficulty in carrying out the programme. I was confident that the captain of the runaway vessel would respect the orders of his owner. We had banked our fires in the morning, so that the noise of escaping steam need not warn the Islander of the presence of another steamer. As soon as Ben reported the runaway within four miles, Moses Brickland had caused the fires to be replenished, and he calculated upon having a full head of steam when we were ready to run out from our hiding-place.
In about half an hour from the time the Islander was discovered, Ben Bowman came on board. We could hear the clang of her screw by this time. I stationed Ben at the hawser, and directed him to let go and haul in the rope as quickly as possible when I gave the word. Buck Lingley and Landy Perkins were to help him make quick work of it. Captain Cayo was stationed where he could make a sure thing of the capture of Cornwood as soon as he leaped on board.
Nearer and nearer came the Islander to the point. As soon as she showed her bowsprit beyond it, I was to give the word to cast off. I could see nothing to prevent the success of the elaborate plan we had made, and I was satisfied that Colonel Shepard would be in possession of his steam-yacht within five minutes.
"Let go and haul in!" I called to Ben Bowman, at the hawser.
The assistant engineer did not permit an instant to elapse before he and his two helpers were hauling on the rope with all their might.
The moment I saw that the hawser was running free, I rang the gong to go ahead, with the helm hard a-starboard. I heard the screw turn a couple of times, and then it stopped. I did not quite understand this. The next thing I saw was Moses rushing on the forecastle.
"The propeller is fouled in a root or a rope, Alick!" exclaimed he. "Back her a stroke or two, and it may clear itself."
I rang to back her as he rushed aft to the engine-room. By this time the Islander was fairly abreast of us, and I feared that our elaborate scheme had failed. But we were seventy-five miles from New Orleans, and there was time enough for as lively a race as ever was seen on the "Father of Waters."