? ? ? ? 'Better get your rifles, you fellows,' Wolf Larsen called to our hunters; and the five men lined the lee rail, guns in hand, and waited.
? ? ? ? The Macedonia was now but a mile away, the black smoke pouring from her funnel at a right angle, so madly she raced, pounding through the sea at a seventeen-knot gait- '"sky-hooting through the brine,"' as Wolf Larsen quoted while gazing at her.
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