There could be no danger from the motor boat.

Both the owner and engineer were well known, in these waters, as capable boat handlers and as men of judgment.
Darrin, himself, did not believe that there was any danger.
"Throw her head a point and a half off to the starboard," called Dave Darrin evenly.
"Aye, aye, sir," responded the midshipman tillerman, and the sailboat responded slowly under the slight headway.
"Great Scott, don't those fellows know that a sailboat has the right of way over a power craft ?" demanded Darrin suddenly.
"Perhaps they're going to see how close they can come to us without hitting us," remarked Farley.
Dave raised the megaphone to his lips, waiting until he judged that there was a chance of his hail being heard.
"Duncan, 'ahoy!" bellowed Darrin.

"Go to port of us!" Still the motor boat came onward, at a speed something better than fourteen miles.
"Hard-a-starboard!" Darrin roared back to his own tillerman.
Then he repeated his hail.

He was almost frenzied now; for the motor boat had not yet changed its course.
Suddenly, when the two craft were almost together, the engineer, after throwing over his wheel, held up one hand.
Before Dave could guess what the gesture meant, the "Duncan" loomed up on the sail-boat's port bow, coming on at unabated speed.
There was an instant scampering of midshipmen for safety.

Then bump! the motor boat's bow crashed into the sailboat, cutting a great gap in her.
The force of the shock threw most of the midshipmen into the water.
The rest jumped.
Now, the "Duncan" responded to her engine by backing off.