THE VOYAGE OF THE HOPPERGRASS

BY EDMUND LESTER PEARSON

AUTHOR OF "THE BELIEVING YEARS"

TO PHILIP RICHARDSON PEARSON

Dear Philip, --

This is the book you have asked me about, --once or twice. Youremember "The Believing Years, " don't you? That was a book aboutsome boys I knew, and although it was written for grown-upreaders, there were boys--yourself amongst them--who claimed tohave read it. 

This story is about boys and men. There are two kinds of piratesin it. One kind is for readers from about eight years old to, say, sixteen. The other kind is recommended from sixteen up to ninety-seven, or eight. There are other things beside the pirates, ofcourse. 

It would do no harm, I think, after you have read the book, to letyour Father try it. And if Elizabeth and Katharine think theywould like it, why, give them 'a chance to find out. That is anadvantage girls have over us, --they usually like our books, whilewe seldom care very much for theirs. I have sent Constance a copy, so you will not have to lend this one to her. 

Your uncle, EDMUND LESTER PEARSON

July 28, 1913

(The anniversary of the sailing of the "Hoppergrass. ")

CONTENTS

 I. THE BEGINNING OF THE VOYAGE II. A MAN ON A DESERT ISLAND III. THE LAST OF THE PIRATES IV. WELL BURIED TREASURE V. MIDNIGHT BURGLARS VI. WE ARE OFFERED LODGINGS VII. BUT WE DECIDE TO GOVIII. HUNTING THE HOPPERGRASS IX. THE GOLD COMPANY X. MR. SNIDER XI. PIRATES IN TROUBLE XII. THE VOYAGE BEGINS AGAIN

THE VOYAGE OF THE HOPPERGRASS

CHAPTER I

THE BEGINNING OF THE VOYAGE

It was a lucky thing that the "Hoppergrass" was a large boat. Whenwe started there were only four of us, --counting CaptainBannister. But we kept picking up passengers--unexpected ones--until the Captain said "we'd have the whole County on board. " Itwas not as bad as that, but we were glad before we came homeagain, that we had a comfortable cabin, with plenty of sleepingroom. 

She was a big, white cat-boat, with her name in gilt letters onthe stern. On the day when our voyage began she lay quietly atanchor, well out toward the middle of the river. It was stillearly, --shortly after five of a morning in July. The river wasquiet, with only one or two boats moving, --as quiet as the streetsof the town through which we had walked on our way to the wharf. There had been a shower just before daylight, and this haddiscouraged us a little, but now the sun was coming through theclouds, and there were white spirals of mist rising from thewater. Across the river, on Fisher's Island, two or three men weremoving about their dories, and smoke poured steadily from thechimneys of the houses. A man's head looked out of the cabin ofthe "Hoppergrass. "

"There's someone on board her, " said Jimmy Toppan. 

"Yes, " replied Captain Bannister, "it's Clarence. He's havin' somebreakfast, I guess. He helped me bring her up river last night, and he slept on board. He aint goin' with us, but he'll help uswith this stuff. "

Then he shouted: "Hey! Clarence!"

The "Hoppergrass" was Captain Bannister's boat, --he had justbought her. He did not like the name, but as yet he had not foundany way of changing it. Captain Bannister was a retired seaman, but I do not know whether he had ever been a full-fledged captainof a ship. In our town it was often the custom to call a man"Captain" if he had ever risen as high as mate. The Captain was ashort, red-faced man, with such bowed legs that you could havepushed a barrel, end-ways, right between them. Ed Mason thoughtthat the Captain's legs were bowed like that because he had beenmade to sit for hours astride a barrel. Ed believed that this wasa favorite form of punishment on board ship, --especially in thenavy. 

I had a different idea about the Captain's legs. It was my beliefthat they were what sailors call "sea-legs. " I had often read, instories about the ocean, of people who were very sick and unhappy until the got their "sea-legs. " After that, as near as I could make out, they could balance themselves better as they walked the deck, and they didn't mind the rolling of the ship. It seemed resonable that a man who had followed the sea for forty years, like the Captain, would get "sea-legs" for good and all. But we never dared to ask the Captain about it. 

"Hey! Clarence!" he shouted again. "What's the matter with yer? Think we want to stand here all day?"

The others of us, waiting on the wharf, were Ed Mason, Jimmy Toppan, and myself. My name was Sam Edwards. (It still IS Sam Edwards, of course, except that some people call me Samuel now). 

"You boys provide the grub, " the Captain had said, "an' I'll find the boat for a week's cruise. "

We were more than willing to agree to that, and we got our families to agree to it. In fact we got them so much interested in it that they fitted us out with a plentiful supply. I had a basket which contained, among other things, a whole boiled ham, --one of those hams that are all brown on the outside, covered with cracker-crumbs and sugar, with cloves stuck in here and there. It makes me hungry to think of them. Jimmy's grandmother had provided all kinds of food, including a lot of her celebrated sugar-gingerbread, and a water-melon. Jimmy was carrying the water-melon now, by means of a shawl-strap. Ed Mason brought up the rear of our procession, as we came down the wharf, with a wheel-barrow full of the rest of our food, --coffee, and bacon, crackers, pork, eggs, butter, condensed milk (horrid stuff!) and twoor threee loaves of fresh bread. Oh, and I forgot threee dozen minceturnovers, brought by Ed Mason. 

The Captain snorted a little over the fresh bread and some of theother things. 

"If you'd ever had to live for months at a time on salt-hoss an'hard tack, the same's I've done, you wouldn't bring soft bread ona boat. It spiles in no time. "

That did not seem to me a good argument, for if the Captain didn'tlike to live on these things, why should he want us to bring them?But I could see that Jimmy Toppan--who liked everything donesailor-fashion--was rather fascinated by the idea of eatingnothing but ship's food. Ed Mason and I, however, had read thebooks by Clark Russell, and we didn't want to eat biscuits full ofweevils, bad meat, and all the other unpleasant things they gaveto sailors. We agreed that salt horse, or fresh horse, either, didnot strike our fancy. Anyhow, we ate up the soft bread the firstday so we did not have to worry about it afterwards. We counted ongetting fish and clams for chowders, and probably some lobsters atDuck Island. 

By this time, Clarence was coming ashore in the tender. He did notsit facing the stern, and pull with the oars as any ordinaryperson would have done. Instead, he faced the bow, and used theoars to push with. He had seen the Captain doing this, and, likeJimmy, it was his aim to be as much of a sailor as possible. Whythe Captain did it, I cannot say, unless it was for the reasonthat sailors often seem to enjoy doing things in an odd andawkward fashion, so as to puzzle landsmen. Neither of them madevery good progress by it, and Clarence wabbled the boat, andcaught crabs every other stroke. 

At last he got alongside the wharf, and we put some of our thingsin the boat, and rowed out to the "Hoppergrass. " It took two tripsto carry everything, for we had bags of clothes, as well as rubberboots and oil-skins. Ed Mason and Clarence, between them, managedto let the water-melon slip out of the straps, so it fell into theriver and went bobbing down stream with the tide. The Captain andI, who were still in the tender, went after it. 

Did you ever try to fish a big water-melon out of a river? It isabout the roundest thing, and the slipperyest thing, and thehardest thing to get hold of, that you could imagine. It rollsover and over, and when you get it out--plop! it tumbles backinto the water and sinks out of sight. Then it comes up again--bobbing--at some other place. Clarence and Ed were in an argumentas to which of them had dropped the melon, while Jimmy stood up inthe bow and shouted directions to me. 

"Gaff it! gaff it! Why don't you gaff it?"

"How can I gaff it? What can I gaff it with, --you!"

"Never mind him, " said the Captain. "Now, look, --I'll lay the boatright across its bows. . .. Now, wait. . .. Now! Can't you get itnow?"

I did get it that time, and we took it back to the "Hoppergrass. "

"You ought to have gaffed it, you know, " remarked Jimmy. 

Captain Bannister climbed on board. 

"Come on, boys, " he said, "we want to get under way while thisbreeze holds. It don't amount to much now. Sam, you take Clarenceashore, and get back as quick as you can. Jimmy, you can help meon the sail, an' Ed--you stow all these things below. I've got tohave standin' room. "

When I got back from shore Ed had put the clothes, and most of thefood into the cabin, and the sail was going up. 

"Now, the anchor, " the Captain sang out; "all of yer better takehold . .. One of yer coil up that rope . .. Now! all together! . .. Now! . .. Now!"

And with the usual and very necessary grunts and groans from theCaptain the anchor slowly came out of the water. We were alreadymoving down river. 

"Swash it round, and get that mud off, --I don't want any of it onthe deck. . .. That's right. Now, shove these jugs under the seats, . .. That's better. What's that striking?"

He was at the wheel, listening to the North Church clock. 

"Four, five, six. Fust rate, fust rate, --I like to get away ontime. "

All the clouds had disappeared, and it was a fine, clear morning. We were sailing almost into the sun. Perhaps you think that I haveforgotten to tell you where we were going, but one of the bestthings about the beginning of that voyage was that we didn't knowexactly where we WERE going. All we had to do was to keep on downthe river, turn into Sandy Island River, and pretty soon we wouldcome out in Broad Bay. And in Broad Bay there were any number ofislands, --some people said three hundred and sixty-five, one forevery day of the year. Some of these islands had people living onthem, but a great many of them were uninhabited. We could sailabout for a week, call at half a dozen different islands everyday, and still have a lot of them left over. 

"Can we get to Duck Island tonight?" asked Ed Mason. 

"Not 'fore tomorrer noon. We'll put in at Little Duck, tonight. "

We were slipping along now beside a big, three-masted schooner--acoal schooner--which was anchored in mid-stream. The crew musthave been below at breakfast, for the decks were deserted exceptfor one man. He wore a blue shirt, and he leaned over the rail, smoking a day pipe. As we passed he spelled out the name on thestern of our boat. He did this in such a loud voice that it wasclear he wished us to hear him. 

"Haitch--o--double p--e--r--HOPPER--g-r-a--double s-GRASS. HOPPER--GRASS!"

And then he scornfully spat into the river. 

Captain Bannister's face turned a darker red, and he glanced overhis shoulder at the man. Then he bent forward again, peered aheadand under the sail as if sighting our course with great care, andturned the wheel a little. 

"Some folks don't have nothin' to do but mind other folks'sbusiness for 'em, " he remarked, looking aloft as if speaking tothe mast head. 

There was silence for a moment. We felt that the man in the blueshirt had somehow insulted all of us. 

"Not that I care what a Pennsylvania Dutchman that aint never beenanywhere 'cept between here an' Philadelphy a-shovellin' coalsays, anyhow, " he added. 

Then he was silent again. 

'"Taint as though I give her the name, myself, " he observed, atlast. "Seein' I just got her a week ago last Saturday. I ASKEDCasper Hoyt what under the canopy possessed him to give her a namelike that. Said his father named her. Well, I thought his fathermust be plumb foolish, or something, but I didn't like to say soto HIM. Seems too bad to waste them gilt letters, or I'd a-hadanother name on her 'fore this. I wanted to use as many of themletters as I could, an' I thought of callin' her for my aunt, overat Greenland. "

"What is your aunt's name?" inquired Jimmy Toppan. 

"Hannah J. Pettingell. "

"Isn't that too long a name?"

"Too long? 'Taint as long as the 'Abbie and Elizabeth Sweetser'that I went out to Calcutta in, summer of '68. And yer see I coulduse some of them letters, --the H, an' the P, an' the G, --but notall of 'em. "

"I don't think I like that name as well as 'Hoppergrass, '" saidJimmy. 

"Anything's better'n that, " replied the Captain, decidedly. "Besides, my aunt was a sort of benefactor of mine, --she alwayssaid I was her fav'rite nephew. "

"Is she dead?"

"Died seven year ago this spring, while I was in New Orleans. Sheleft me her second best ear-trumpet, --she was deef as a post. Shehad two of 'em. One was a rubber toob sort of thing, --pretty nighfour foot long. She only used that on Sundays, an' when theminister called. She left me the other, an' I've got it to home, over the parlor mantelpiece. "

I remembered seeing it there, when I had called on the Captain. Helived all alone on West Injy Lane, in a house full of cats andcuriosities. The ear-trumpet always had a bouquet of dried flowersstuffed in the big end, and I had supposed that it was a speaking-trumpet. I thought the Captain had used it to shout ordersthrough, when his ship was going round Cape Horn in a gale. Itdisappointed me to hear that it was nothing but his aunt's ear-trumpet. And I couldn't see why Miss Hannah Pettingell, who hadonly left the Captain her ear-trumpet (and the second-best one, besides) had any right to have the boat's name changed in herhonor. 

"I like the name, just as it is, " I said. 

"Do yer?" inquired the Captain. "Well, there's no accountin' fortastes, as the man said when he found the monkey eatin' glue. "

This seemed to be a joke on me. Ed and Jimmy joined the Captain inlaughing, and I felt rather put down. But we soon had somethingelse to think of, for we went on another tack to enter SandyIsland River. A bridge crossed this river, not far from the mouth, and the draw had to be turned to let us through. Ed Mason got along fish-horn from the cabin, and began to blow it. After a whilethe old draw-tender, who lived in a shanty, quarter of a mileaway, came hobbling up the road. He slowly swung open the draw, and then, as we approached the bridge, peered down at us. 

"This yer new boat, Lem?" said he to the Captain. 

"This is her, right enough, " said our skipper. 

"Sets kinder high in the water, don't she?"

The aged draw-tender had the air of a man who was expected to findfault, and was quite able to do it. 

"Hadn't noticed it, " replied the Captain, shortly. 

He was attending closely to sailing the boat through the narrowgap in the bridge. The old man cackled. 

"Guess you'll find, when you git her outside, that them boys 'llwish you had some more ballast in her. "

Then he caught sight of the name on the stern. 

"Hopper-grass! Hoppergrass! Where didger git that air name, Lem?Invent it yerself?"

"No, I didn't, " said the Captain. He was very much irritated, andhe did not look around. 

"Well, then, if 'taint yer own inventin', I jes as soon tell yer--if yer ask ME, --that it's the most ding-busted, tom-fool name Iever see on a cat-boat in all my born days. "

"Well, I didn't ask yer, " shouted Captain Bannister, "an' it don'tmatter two cents to me WHAT you think. "

The ancient cackled again. Either he was deaf, or else he waspretending not to hear, in order to thorn the Captain. He kept onwith his remarks. 

"Yessir, the very WUST I ever see on the stern of a boat. That'swhat _I_ think, Lem, an' you can take it or leave it. "

There was nothing to do but leave it, for we had already left thebridge behind, and were feoon too far away to hear the critic'sremarks. He continued to give us his opinion, however, for wecould see his jaw move, though we could not make out a single wordhe said. 

This river was very different from the main stream. Narrow andmuddy, it ran between high banks which were covered with marshgrass. There were sudden twists and turns, so that we never knewwhat might be ahead of us. Sometimes we sailed so near the shorethat the boom swept along the bank, brushing the grass. Once weturned a corner suddenly, and started up four crows, who werepecking at a dead fish, and in another place a big crane jumpedclumsily up from a pool, and flapped heavily away. The dark, muddywater boiled up in thousands of bubbles in our wake. 

"We'll see if we can get a mess of clams at Pingree's Beach, an'then we'll have a chowder for dinner, --what d'yer say, boys?"

We all said that the Captain's idea was a good one. There was asharp turn in the river just then, and he put the boat about toround a sort of headland, where the banks were eight or ten feethigh. 

"Hard-a-lee! Look out for your heads, " he shouted; and when thesail had swung over he continued: "I come up through here onenight two years ago, in a boat that belonged to Dave Rodigrass, --Iwas bringing her up from Little Duck Island, for him. It wasthicker'n burgoo, an' when I got the other side o' this pint, Iheard a feller sing out from this side that he was aground, an' hewarned me off, an' when I got here I couldn't see him, an' prettysoon he begun shoutin' from the other side. I tell yer I thoughtI'd got 'em again, or something, an' I--"

The Captain's recollections stopped that instant, for a voice--aloud, cheerful voice--arose only a few feet from us. It came fromthe other side of the sail, and that was all we could tell aboutit. 

"Look out there!" it shouted, "look out! Oh, I mean: ship ahoy!ship ahoy!"

This hail came so suddenly that it made us jump, and Ed Mason, whowas standing up forward, nearly fell overboard. He grabbed themast to save himself, and then we all stooped to looked under thesail. The shouting had begun again, and there was a great racketof "Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!"

CHAPTER II

A MAN ON A DESERT ISLAND

"All right, all right!" shouted Captain Bannister, "we hear yer. You needn't ahoy so much. "

But the voice continued to shout "Ship ahoy!" at a great rate, until the "Hoppergrass" drew slowly ahead, and we could see whathad been hidden by the sail. 

A sand-bar stuck out of the water, right in the middle of theriver. Only a few feet of it showed, and the island which it madewas very small. It was so small that the man who was sitting on ithad his legs drawn up till his knees came right under his chin, soas to keep his feet from getting wet. He was a young man, abouttwenty years old. He had on white trousers and a pink shirt, andhe was slowly waving a white canvas hat. His hair was sandy, andvery much ruffled, and his big, pale blue eyes were wide open, asthough he were surprised about something. 

"Ship ahoy!" he remarked again, but in an ordinary conversationaltone, this time. 

Then he climbed to his feet, --carefully, so as to keep the steepsides of his little, sand island from giving way, and letting himdown into the water. As soon as he was standing up straight heraised one hand in the air, as if he were in a play, and said:"Rescued at last!"

Then he turned toward us, and remarked: "Gentlemen, I thank you. "

"You better wait till you're on board, " said the Captain, "beforeyou begin thankin' us. I'll come about in a minute, an' then we'llfetch yer in the tender. "

Jimmy Toppan had already begun to pull the small boat alongside, but before he could get into it, the young man called out: "That'sall right! I'll swim. "

And he plunged into the water, and struck out toward us. Of coursehe could not overtake a sail-boat, and we soon left him behind. Hekept on swimming, however, until his hat fell off. Turning around, he picked up the hat, and jammed it on his head again. By thistime the Captain had put about, and started on a tack that broughtus near the swimmer. The young man came alongside, with a smile onhis wet face. 

"Don't try to grab the boat, " shouted the Captain, "get hold ofthe tender!"

So the swimmer let us pass him, seized the side of the small boat, and after one or two trials (which nearly upset the tender)managed to climb in. He stood up in the stern, and raised his handtoward the sky, again, as if he were "speaking a piece" in school. 

"Safe! Safe, at last!" he cried. 

At this instant the painter became taut; the small boat gave asudden jerk, and he went overboard again like a flash, head first. 

Captain Bannister turned his head to see how the young man wasgetting on. Of course the boat was empty. 

"Where'n the nation has he got to, now?" exclaimed the bewilderedCaptain. 

We were all doubled up laughing, but we managed to gasp out: "He'sgone overboard again!"

"What's he done that for?"

"He--he--fell over!"

"Fell over? What'n the dickens did he do that for? Where is he, anyhow?"

At this moment the sandy head, and astonished face came up, oncemore, in our wake. He brushed the water out of his eyes, looked atus, and began to smile again. 

"Say, you!" shouted the Captain, "be you comin' on this boat, orwhat be you goin' to do?"

The swimmer gasped. 

"If you keep on at that rate, " he called, "I'm probably NOTcoming. If you'll wait a bit, though, I'll--"

Here he swallowed a mouthful of water, and stopped speaking. Hewaved one arm at us, however, and seemed to smile cheerfully. 

"Well, I'll come back once more, --d'yer hear?" This from theCaptain. "An' when yer get aboard, STAY aboard, will yer?"

The "Hoppergrass" turned again, and the same performance was gonethrough. The pink-shirted man climbed into the tender, but thistime he sat down cautiously in the stern, and waited for thepainter to become taut. It had not slackened however, so there wasno chance for another such accident as that which knocked himoverboard before. He watched the painter for a moment, and thenshook his fist at it. 

"Fooled you that time, you old rope!"

Jimmy and Ed pulled the tender alongside, and the wet man steppedgingerly aboard the "Hoppergrass. " His clothes stuck tight to him, and his shoes made a squshy sound, wherever he stepped. But heinsisted on shaking hands with us, all around. 

"If you hadn't come just when you did, " he remarked solemnly, "Ishould have been devoured by sharks. Already I had noticed a blackfin circling about the island--I mean a LEAN, black fin, --or is ita low, rakish, black fin? No; that's a craft, --a low, rakish, black craft. It was a LEAN, black fin--"

Captain Bannister gave a great snort of disgust. 

"SHARKS!" he exclaimed, "there aint no sharks in this river!"

"No? Well, probably you are more familiar with it than I am. "

"Guess I ought to know something 'bout it, " the Captain returned;"I've been on it longer than most folks 'round here. "

"On it LONGER, no doubt, " said the young man, politely, "but haveyou gone into it any deeper than I?"

The Captain smiled. 

"Well, no; I guess not. You've got me there, all right. "

The stranger perched himself on the house, and there was amoment's silence until the Captain spoke again. 

"But how in the nation did yer git on that there sand-bar, anyway?Where'd yer come from?"

"I came from--what was the name of that place where I got off thetrain? I thought I'd remember it, --I remembered it by gammon andspinach--yes, that's it, --it's in that, somehow--"

' Rowley, Powley, Gammon and Spinach, --Heighho! says Anthony--'"

"Rowley!" we all exclaimed. 

"That's it! that's it! Rowley. Think of living at a place sofamous as that! It sounds like great fun. But nobody does livethere. When I got off the train there was only one man in sight, and he was standing on a wharf watching a steamboat go up theriver, or down the river, or whatever it is. That was MY boat, --Iwas going to Duck Island in her. But she'd gone, and the man saidhe'd let me take a canoe, for half a dollar, and I thought thatwas very trusting of him, for how did he know I'd ever bring itback? But he said I could leave it with a man named Pike, wholives on Little Duck Island, and he'd get it tomorrow. So I gavehim half a dollar, and then I came away in the canoe. Aren't theywabbly? I never was in one before. "

"Did you paddle down here in a canoe? And you'd never been in onebefore?"

"Yes. That is, I didn't do much with the paddle, --except push offfrom the bank every now and then. The canoe seemed to come alongpretty well. How that river does twist! And it's very narrow, --Ishould think the steamboat would stick. "

The Captain opened his mouth helplessly, once or twice. 

"Gosh sakes!" he said, "you warn't in no river. You was inPingree's Crik, or you wouldn't have got down here. "

"I thought it seemed pretty narrow. But when I got out here--roundthat corner--and came out where it's so much broader, I couldn'tmake the canoe go at all, except backwards. The front end of herkept swinging round, for the river was running the wrong way. Atlast I ran right up on that island, and then I got out, for myfoot had gone to sleep. You see I hadn't dared to move, the canoewabbled so. And then I went to look at some critters that werecrawling around in the water, --they looked like tennis-racquets, only their tails weren't quite big enough--"

"Horse-shoe crabs, " said Ed Mason. 

"I don't know what they were, but I got quite fascinated watchingthem, and the first thing I knew the island had grown smaller--"

"The tide was coming in, " explained Jimmy. 

"But where is your canoe?" I asked him, "what have you done withit?"

The astonished look came over the young man's face. 

"Why, that's so! I wonder where it has gone?"

"Land o' libberty!" said the Captain, "don't yer know?"

"Why, yes, it floated off. While I was watching the tennis-racquetanimals it got loose, somehow--"

"Naturally, " observed Captain Bannister, "seein' the tide wasrisin', an' I don't s'pose yer pulled it up on the sand. "

"And the first thing I knew it was quite a distance from theisland. "

"Couldn't you have swum for it?" I demanded. 

"Yes; but I didn't want to get all wet, --I--"

And then we all looked at his soaked clothes, and he laughed withus. 

"Somehow, I didn't think of that when you came along, " headmitted. 

"But don't you really know where the canoe is?"

'Why, it disappeared around that point, just before I saw yourboat. I really ought to get it again, because Mr. Skeels--that'sthe name of the man who owns it--isn't it great? I tried to makeup a poem about him as I came down the river, but I couldn't getany farther than:

 There was an old person named Skeels, Who lived upon lobsters and eels, --

and he did look as if he lived upon lobsters and eels, too. OrWITH them. Anyhow, he'll be down to Mr. Pike's tomorrow, askingfor the canoe. And my bag, and suit-case, and all my clothes arein it, too. So I suppose I'll have to find it. Will it go out tosea?"

"It can't, " said the Captain, "not till the tide turns. We'llovertake it 'fore long, --you see if we don't. "

Sure enough, we did overtake it. We had hardly passed the point ofland when Jimmy Toppan, who spent most of his time standing in thebow, peering ahead like Leif Ericsson discovering Vinland, sangout that he had sighted the canoe. It had drifted into some eel-grass, near the shore, and we had no trouble in getting it. Besidethe bags, there were in the canoe some large sheets of paper, tornout of a sketch book. These were covered with pictures of thehorse-shoe crabs, --drawn in a very amusing fashion. One sketchshowed an old crab, wearing a mob-cap and sitting up in bed, drinking tea. 

The stranger was delighted to get his belongings. He promptlychanged his wet clothes for a bathing-suit, leaving the wet thingsin the sun to dry. 

"Now, " he said, "I'm all ready to go overboard, but it will bejust like my luck not to fall over at all. "

"You stay on the boat, " said the Captain, decidedly; "I've rescuedyou twice, and that's enough for one day. "

"All right, Captain. Though I don't mind being in the water. It'sthis desert island business that scares me most to death. Therewas the question of food. The--what-do-you-call--'em crabs hadall gone away before you came, and I didn't think much of eatingthem cold, anyway. I had a piece of chocolate--"

He laughed and jumped up. 

"Here it is, " he said, fishing it out from a wet trousers' pocket. "I was going to divide it so as to have a piece for each day. That's the way people do when they're shipwrecked, isn't it, Captain?"

"So they say. Never had to come to that, myself. "

"Well, I was stuck right off. For how did I know how many days Iwas going to stay on the island? The books on shipwrecks don't sayanything about that. I didn't know whether to divide the chocolateinto five pieces or ten, --they'd have been pretty small, if I'dhad to have made it last for ten days. Do you think it would havekept me alive for ten days, Captain?"

"I dunno, " replied the Captain, "but I guess yer wouldn't havestayed there so long as that. There'll be six foot of water onthat bar before noon, so yer wouldn't have found the settin' quiteso comfortable. Besides, some of them sharks of yours might haveet yer. "

"Well, then, " the young man returned, "it was lucky you came whenyou did. The water was crowding me rather close. And now, whatshall I do? Will you give me a lift as far as Little Duck Island?Or if you haven't got room enough, and I'll be in the way, why, I'll get in Mr. Skeels' canoe again, and give you an exhibition ofwabbling. "

He looked dismally toward the canoe, which we now had in towbehind the tender. We all told the castaway that we would be gladto have him stay with us. 

"Plenty of sleepin' room on board, " said Captain Bannister, "an'you said you was goin' to Big Duck, didn't yer? You stay with us, and we'll get yer there all right, tomorrer. "

"Do you know many people on Duck Island, Mr. Daddles?" asked EdMason. 

The young man turned around. 

"Where did you get that name?" he asked. 

"It's on that card on your bag. "

The owner of the bag examined the label. 

"I know who put that on there, " he remarked to himself, "well, I. .. Why . .. No, I am going to the island, I suppose, to see a Mr. Kidd. Relation of the pirate, I hope. He didn't say anything aboutit in his letter. Whether he was related to Captain Kidd, I mean. "

"You can find out tomorrer, " said our skipper, "now we're headin'for Pingree's Beach to see if we can get a mess of clams of oldman Haskell. Then we'll have dinner, and we can run over to theinlet at Little Duck in an hour, any time this afternoon. "

The breeze was still light, and the "Hoppergrass" made only fairprogress. Soon we were out of the river, and entering Broad Bay. The sun was high by this time, the air cool and pleasant. Everything seemed so clear and fresh, that it made us think theland a poor place in comparison with the water. How hot and dustythe streets of the town must be at this same minute! We felt sorryfor the people who had to stay there. We had only the clean whitehull of the boat between us and the sparkling water of the bay. Toward the sky the great white sail of our boat soared up, likethe wing of a giant sea gull, and we went forward as easily andsmoothly as one of the gulls who were gliding through the air, anddipping to the water a few hundred yards ahead of us. The grasscovered river-banks were far astern now, and the only land aheadwas some low sand-dunes and beaches, hardly to be seen in thedistance. 

"Here goes the chocolate, " said Mr. Daddles, tossing it overboard, "once it might have saved my life, but I don't care for it now. Chocolate flavored with salt-water is pretty poor stuff. "

Then he commenced turning over his clothes, which were spread outin the sun on top of the cabin. 

"What made yer say p'r'aps this feller named Kidd was a relationof the pirate?" asked Captain Bannister. "You'd heard 'boutFishback Island, hadn't yer?"

"No, I never heard the name, even. "

"What about Fishback Island, Captain?" asked Ed Mason. 

"You never heard all them yarns, an' all that diggin' that went onover there?"

"No, I never heard of it, " Ed replied, "are there pirates there?"

"Of course not, " said Jimmy Toppan scornfully, "there aren't anypirates anywhere, now. "

"Aren't there?" the Captain inquired. He slacked the sheet alittle, and made it fast with great deliberation. "You better notbe too sure of that, cos' I know where there's plenty of 'em. "

"Around here?" I inquired. 

Captain Bannister chuckled. 

"No, not very near this place. In the China Sea. "

"Have you ever seen any of them?"

"A whole junk full of 'em. "

"What did they do?"

All four of us spoke at once. Mr. Daddles seemed to be as muchinterested as the rest of us. 

"Well, they tried to ketch us. But they couldn't. That was allthere was to it, then. But I see six of 'em 'bout a month later inHong Kong. "

"In Hong Kong! What were they doing there?"

"They was havin' their heads cut off, by a feller with a longsword. Anyway, I guess they was some of the same crew that chasedus in the junk, cos' they was took by a man-of-war in 'bout thesame place. "

"How did they like having their heads cut off?" asked Mr. Daddles. 

"Well, yer can't tell 'bout a Chinaman. They didn't seem to mindit much. They get used to it, yer see. "

"Somehow, " said Mr. Daddles, "a Chinese pirate doesn't seem likethe real thing to me. "

"That's so, " I agreed. I came and sat down with the Captain and EdMason in the cock-pit. "I always think of a pirate as a man with ablack beard, and--"

"A red sash around his waist, " put in Ed Mason. 

"All stuck full of pistols and things, " added Jimmy. 

"Guess that kind has all died off, " said the Captain. 

"All except Black Pedro, " remarked Mr. Daddles. 

"Never heard of HIM. "

"Never HEARD of him?" This in a tone of great surprise. "You neverheard of him either?" said Mr. Daddles, turning to each of usboys, one after the other. "What have your parents been doing tolet you grow up in ignorance? I'll have to tell you about him, --he's the very last of the pirates. "

"Where does he hang out?" asked the Captain. 

"On Rum Island or Alligator Key, --I'm not sure which. The accountsvary. "

The Captain looked at Mr. Daddles in a quizzical fashion. "I guessyou've got a yarn, " said he, --"why don't yer let us have it?"

Mr. Daddles was perched on the cabin, swinging his bare legs overthe cock-pit. The Captain was at the wheel, as usual, with hiseyes fixed on the water ahead of us, part of the time, but now andthen raised to look at Mr. Daddles. The latter had a serious, almost mournful expression on his face, as he told the story ofthe last of the pirates. 

CHAPTER III

THE LAST OF THE PIRATES

"You know that a great many of the most famous pirates were reallyrather small potatoes. Take Captain Kidd, for instance. Why, theyare still disputing whether he was a pirate or not. If he was one, he didn't take to it until late in life, and he'd been a perfectlyrespectable sailor up to that time. They sent him out to catchpirates, and according to one story he turned pirate himself. "

"Well, they hung him for something, " said Captain Bannister. 

"Yes, sir. They did that because they said he was a pirate, andthat he murdered his mate. He said his mate mutinied, and that hewas justified in killing him. There were a lot of others who wentout to catch pirates, but ended by turning pirates themselves. Then there were some who just carried on pirating as a kind ofbranch business, when other things were dull. What respect can youhave for that kind of a pirate? Some of 'em were wreckers part ofthe time, and pirates the other part. "

"What are wreckers?" I asked. 

"Why, they, " explained Mr. Daddles, "made a living by what theycould steal from wrecks. Either they stayed on dangerous shoresand waited for a wreck, or they would deceive sailors by buildingfalse beacons at night so as to toll the ships upon the rocks. That was a pretty mean sort of thing! They couldn't pick out arich galleon, all full of gold ingots, and then fight for thetreasure, like pirates and gentlemen! No; they had to takewhatever came along, and, like as not, all they would get would bea miserable fishing-shack, loaded with hake and halibut! A real, simon-pure pirate would have refused to shake hands with a low-down wrecker, and it would have served him right, too. 

"But Black Pedro was the very top-notcher of them all, the finestflower of piracy. He didn't go pirating just during the summermonths, when his other business was slack. And he would have diedbefore he'd have been a wrecker. It was a profession, with him. And an inherited one, too. He was the third of the name. Hestarted in as cabin boy on the ship of his grand-father, --oldBlack Pedro the First. The old man, the grand-father, was capturedonce by an Admiral of the English Navy, and taken to Tyburn to behanged. You see he was such a prominent pirate that they wouldn'tjust string him up to the yard arm, like a common buccaneer. Hewas tried with the greatest ceremony, and sentenced to death bythe Lord Chief Justice himself. That was a great feather in hiscap. But when they tried to hang him the crowd around the gallowsliked him so well that they started a riot, and in the excitementhe got away, and a year later he was back on the Spanish Main, pirating again, with all of his old crew who were still alive, --about eight of 'em. 

"He had to get a new ship, for his old one--the 'Panther, '--hadbeen sunk in the fight with the English Admiral. So he had onebuilt for him by a firm in San Domingo, who made a specialty ofpirate ships. It was the very latest thing in that kind of vessel, strong, swift, heavily armed, and luxuriously furnished. The crewhad a social hall for holding their revels and the cabins were fitfor a king. Even The Plank was solid mahogany. "

"What plank?" This from Ed Mason. 

"WHAT plank? Did you ever hear such a question? I shouldn't thinkyou'd ever been to school. Why, THE PLANK, --the one that thepirates' victims have to walk. Didn't you ever hear of walking theplank?"

"Oh, yes. "

"Well, old Black Pedro the First named his new ship 'The Angel ofDeath' and he had a picture of the Angel embroidered in blackvelvet on his foresail. He was a proud man, I tell you, when hesailed out of San Domingo on his first voyage. He had a blackvelvet suit--made out of some that was left over from the pictureof the Angel--and a red sash around his waist, in the properstyle. This was stuck full of cutlasses and flint-lock pistols, --four cutlasses and eight pistols. And he had two or three morepistols in each boot. He had a fierce, black beard, and the mostferocious face you can imagine. He scared some people to death byjust GLARING at them. And his own son was first mate, --he wasalmost as ferocious as old Pedro the First. And HIS son--thegrandson, that is, of Pedro the First--was cabin boy. It was theboy's first voyage. Before they had been out a week they fell inwith 'El Espiritu Santo, ' a private galleon belonging to the Kingof Spain. It was loaded with bars of solid gold, and fifteenchests of gold doubloons. Black Pedro ordered the Jolly Rogerhoisted at all three mast-heads, and went down to his cabin andstuck six more pistols in his boots. Then the two ships openedfire on each other with their big guns, and fought for about halfan hour. At the end of that time, the first mate came to thecaptain and said:

"'Father, I think it's about time to board her. '

"'Are the scuppers running with blood yet?'

"Pedro the Second went and inspected the scuppers. 

"'No, ' he said, 'not yet. '

"'Continue firing till they are, ' ordered the Captain. 

"After about ten minutes more, the mate reported the scuppersrunning with blood in the regular manner. Then, and not till then, did old Pedro give orders to board. That was why he was the princeof pirates, --it was his attention to details, to the little thingsthat make up the difference between a real pirate and a mere sea-thief. You can see what an inheritance the third Pedro had, --howhe was brought up to reverence the best traditions of his calling. 

"They laid the 'Angel' alongside the Spanish galleon, and grappledthe two vessels together. Old Pedro led the boarding party, andwhen they got to the poop-deck of the galleon they found theSpanish captain, the first mate, and the cabin-boy waiting forthem with cutlasses. The three Pedros, father, son, and grandson, engaged them according to rank, and finished them off at the samemoment. The rest of the Spanish crew had been subdued in themeantime, and it only remained to make them walk the plank, thentransfer the treasure to 'The Angel of Death, ' and sail away, leaving 'El Espiritu Santo' on fire, so she would blow up when thefire reached her powder magazine. 

"When the officers were killed, and the crew and passengers of thegalleon were lined up on deck, awaiting their fate, old Pedrostrode down from the poop-deck, wiping his cutlass. 

"'Now, ' he said, knowing that all eyes were on him, 'we'll feed'em to the sharks!'

"And he roared: 'Fetch out The Plank!'

"There was a pause. No one moved. 

"'Blood and Bones!' roared old Pedro, 'don't you hear me? Fetchout The Plank!'

"At this the bo's'n, Aaron Halyard, stepped forward. 

"'Oh there you are, are you, Halyard?' bellowed the pirate chief, 'well, why don't you fetch out The Plank? It's your duty, --you'rein charge of it. '

"The bo's'n pulled at his forelock, and bowed to his commander. 

"'Beggin' yer pardin, Cap'n, ' said he, 'kin I have a word with yerprivate-like? Lemme whisper in yer ear, if I may make so bold--'

"'No whispering, ' returned his chief, 'no whispering here. What'sthe matter with you anyway? And why don't you fetch out ThePlank?'"

'"Well, Cap'n, ' said the bo's'n, rubbing his hands together, nervously, 'you know ME. I've been with you ever since you begun. I was with you in the days of the old 'Panther, ' an'--' "'Cut itshort!' shouted Pedro. 

"'Well, Cap'n, ' the bo's'n repeated, with his knees knockingtogether, 'I never was so mortified in all my life--specially infront of all the gentry here, ' pointing his thumb toward theSpanish prisoners, 'but the fact is, Cap'n, I've clean forgotwhere I put The Plank!'

"'Forgot!' screamed old Pedro. 

"'Yessir, plumb forgot. I jus' can't remember for the life of me, where I put her. I know I brought her aboard myself, an' I'd a-taken my affydavy I put her under my bunk, but when I looked forher, when we fust sighted this here galleon, strike me foolish ifshe was there at all! I asked the cook about it. He'll tell yer sohisself--an' he--'

"'Cut it short!' Pedro roared again. 

"He glared around him--did old Pedro--like an infuriated lion. Once he raised his cutlass and seemed about to sweep off thebo's'n's head with it. At last he said in a choked voice--

"'Well, for goodness' sake, think! Can't you remember what you didwith it?'

"Aaron shook his head dumbly. Then as he stood there, quaking, asudden gleam of intelligence came into his eye. 

"'That's it!' he said, 'that's it. The cook wanted an ironin'board, he said, and he borrowed it--'

"He broke off, and scrambled hastily over the side of 'The Angelof Death. ' Then he rushed below, and in a few minutes came back, nervously tearing off some sheets of white cloth, which surroundedthe handsome, hand-carved, mahogany Plank. 

"'Lucky for you!' bellowed Pedro, 'now put her in place, boys!'

"His men put her in place and the Spanish crew had the pleasure ofstarting the long procession of victims who were to go overboardby that route in the years to come. 

"Such was the first fight of 'The Angel of Death' and just suchsuccess (excepting, of course, the hitch about The Plank) rewardedthe efforts of old Pedro for over twenty years. Up and down theSpanish Main he sailed, and the sight of that foresail, with itsterrible picture of the Black Angel, struck terror to the heart ofevery man afloat. Even men-of-war fought shy of the three Pedros. Once 'The Angel of Death' rounded the Cape of Good Hope andattacked a treasure fleet on its way back from the Indies. On thatoccasion it captured so many chests of gold doubloons that theyquite blocked up the social hall, where the crew used to holdtheir revels, and they had to revel on deck, until 'The Angel ofDeath' got back to Rum Island, where they buried their treasure. 

"Finally, old Pedro the First was taken sick. There was a fight, early one morning when the air was very damp, between the 'Angel'and a rich merchantman. The pirate captain got rather over-heated, during his usual duel with the captain of the merchantman, andthen he foolishly sat down in a draft while he ate his breakfast. He had a bad attack of rheumatism, and it made it very hard forhim to scramble over the bulwarks when he led a boarding party tothe enemy's decks. The next time they put in at Rum Island the oldman took his bed, dolefully predicting that his end was near. 

"'Just at this season, when the plate-ships are all sailing forSpain, ' he grumbled, 'I don't see what I've done to be put uponthis way. '

"He got worse and worse, however, and the best doctors shook theirheads over his case. He called in his son and grandson, and oldAaron Halyard, the bo's'n, --the same one who came so near tobotching everything in the first fight. He said good-bye to themall, and gave some good advice to the youngest Pedro, --who was afine, promising boy, by this time. Then he passed away, and theygave him the biggest funeral that had ever been seen on RumIsland. 

"Of course, Black Pedro the Second took up the work right wherethe old pirate had left it. It was the season when the galleonswere starting for Spain, loaded down with gold, and as soon as thefuneral was over, the 'Angel' sailed on her regular autumn trip. Some of the Spanish captains had heard of the death of old Pedro, and so they weren't quite as cautious as they should have been. They found out their mistake very quick, however, and the 'Angel'had a most profitable voyage. Gold and silver from the mines ofPeru, diamonds from Brazil, rubies and other kinds of preciousstones, --oh, I tell you, the pirates sailed back to Rum Islandthat winter, chuckling with glee at the thought of the wealth theyhad won. They had with them the Governor General of the Antilles, a Spanish grandee of the very highest kind. They held him forransom, and made the King of Spain pay fifty thousand dollars toget him back. 'The Angel of Death' got to be such a scourge of theseas that half a dozen men-of-war were sent out by England, Spainand Portugal to try to catch her. But she was the fleetest ship onthe ocean, and she always gave them the slip. Once she got caughtin a tight place, between Rum Island and Alligator Key. Thepursuer was a Portuguese man-of-war, and the pirate vessel turnedand fought so fiercely that the enemy was put to flight. 

"So it went on for many years. The boy, Pedro, had worked his wayup, by sheer merit--no favoritism--until he was now first mate. Then it came his father's turn to pass on, as the first Pedro hadpassed. The 'Angel' had put in at Alligator Key, for a few weeksone summer, and while they were there some friend presented thecaptain with a water-melon. He ate it at supper that night, and asit was unripe, it disagreed with him. Several glasses of ice-water, which he drank with the melon, had the effect of making himstill worse. Next morning another of the Pedros was gone, andPedro the Third was now captain of 'The Angel of Death' and leaderof the pirate crew. "

Mr. Daddles paused in his story and came and sat down with Ed andme in the cock-pit. 

"When 'The Angel of Death' sailed on her next trip, she wasprobably the most dangerous pirate ship that was ever afloat. Yousee they were all of them experienced men. They had years ofpractice behind them. They knew their ship, and they knew theocean. There wasn't a shoal or a passage, an inlet or a creek fromone end of the Spanish Main to the other that they didn't know. Black Pedro spread terror into far corners of the ocean, whereneither his father nor grand-father had ever been heard of. Theywould have been proud indeed, if they could have seen their son. He wore a black velvet suit, with a red sash, just like his grand-father before him. That had become the official costume in thefamily. He had made no change in it, except to add one or two morepistols in the sash. 

"One autumn, after Black Pedro the Third had been captain forabout a dozen or fifteen years, 'The Angel of Death' had aterrible fight with the biggest galleon she had ever tackled, --'The Santa Maria Sanctissima, ' a ship so huge that she towered farabove the pirate vessel. While the great guns were roaring, andthe cannon-balls flying, Black Pedro stood amid the smoke, in hisvelvet suit, his black beard bristling with rage, and his facebearing an expression ten times more ferocious than his grand-father's at its worst. He noted carefully the precise moment whenthe scuppers were running with blood, and then gave the signal forboarding. 'The Santa Maria Sanctissima' was so high that they hadto use scaling-ladders to reach her deck, but the pirates soonswarmed on board, the captain was slain by Black Pedro, the restof the crew walked The Plank, and 'The Angel of Death' sailed backto Rum Island with her booty. 

"It was the richest she had ever captured. 'The Santa MariaSanctissima' carried an enormous cargo of gold, intended for agreat castle in Spain, and it took four days to unload thetreasure at the pirates' lair, and six more days to bury it in theground. Think how they felt when the last shovelful of earth wasput in, how the sense of work well done filled their breasts withsatisfaction! But on that very day disaster of the most terriblekind was hanging over them, and less than twenty-four hours laybetween them and dire calamity. 

"Early in the evening, on the day after they had buried the lastgold bar, Black Pedro sat on the veranda of his cottage, smokinghis pipe. This cottage was his regular dwelling place, while hewas at Rum Island. From the veranda he could look out over thebay, where 'The Angel of Death' lay at anchor. The men's quarterswere down the hill, near the beach. 

"Black Pedro noticed that the men seemed unusually quiet thatnight. He did not hear the customary yells and cries. Suddenly hewas surprised to see old Aaron Halyard, the bo's'n, come over thetop of the hill, leaning on his cane. Behind him walked the entirecrew of the 'Angel, ' two by two. They were heading toward theirCaptain's cottage. This was not only astonishing, but it wasstrictly against the rules, as all interviews with the Captain, while on shore, were limited to the hours from 4 to 6 P. M. It wasnow 7. 30. Black Pedro leaped to his feet in surprise. The menformed a line in front of the cottage--thirty-four of them--whileold Aaron tottered forward. 

"'Cap'n, ' he said, 'we'd like to have a word with you. '

"'Well, ' replied Black Pedro, 'what do you want?'

"'Cap'n, it's this way. You know ME. I've been your bo's'n an' yerfather's an' yer grand-father's afore HIM, ever since the 'Angel'was built, an' afore that, too. Why, some on us can remember wayback to the days of the 'Panther, ' when you wa'n't knee-high to acutlash. Me, an' Mike the Shark, here, an' Sandy Buggins, an'Roarin' Pete, an' some on us has stuck to the 'Angel' since theday she was built. There aint any on us but has seen more'n twentyyears sarvice with you or yer father. Now some on us got talkin'over things today, and talkin' 'bout the big haul o' treasure wemade last v'y'ge from that there 'Santa Maria. ' An', o' course, big haul as it was, it aint nothin' at all to what's buried righthere on this island. Why, all the loot that we've taken for sixty-five year is in the ground within half a mile of where we stand--all on it, way back to what we took outer that there 'SpiritoSanto. "

"And old Halyard paused, and blushed a little, as he rememberedthe embarrassing incident of that day. 

"'Well, ' said the Captain, 'go on. '" '"Well, sir, all on a suddentlike, it come over us: what good is that there plunder a-doin'of?'

"'What good?' asked Black Pedro. 

"'Yessir, what good? There's all that there gold an' silver, an'all them jooels an' preshis stones an' all them fine clo'es an'what not, an' what good is it all a-doin' of, a-buried in theground? The book-keeper here, Mike the Shark, was a-reckonin' upthis morning, an' a-addin' this last lot o' gold, an' he tells usthat 'cordin' to the 'greement the share of ev'ry man jack on usreckons up to a powerful big figger. '

"The book-keeper stepped forward. 'For each man, ' said he, 'theprecise sum to date is nine hundred and sixty-six thousand, sevenhundred and forty-three dollars, and twenty-two cents. '

"'An' all hard-earned money, too, ' said old Aaron; 'we've been a-sailin, ' an' a-fightin', an' a-shootin' folks, an a-stabbin' on'em, an' a-slittin' of their wind-pipes, an' a-walkin' 'em on ThePlank, for sixty-five year come the sixteenth o' next August. '

"'Well, what do you want?' asked Black Pedro again. His voice waslow, but terrible. 

"'Why, ' said the bo's'n, 'we'd like some of our share of themoney, if it's all the same to you. '

"'And when you get it, ' continued the pirate chief, 'what do youpropose to do with it?'

"'Why, spend some on it, an' buy some o' the good things o' life. Look at us. Like a lot of scare-crows, we be. In rags, ev'ry oneon us, 'cept you, --an' your black velvet suit is lookin' a leetlemite rusty, if you'll 'scuse an ol' sailor-man, for speakin' rightout. An' we'd like somethin' good to eat, an' somethin' good todrink. Look at me: risin' eighty-six year, I be, an' aint nevertasted nothin' all my life 'cept salt-hoss, an' ship-bread, an'rum; never slep' nowheres 'cept in a hammock, an' had to turn outon deck an' stand watch in all kinds of weather. An' wuth todaynine hundred an' sixty-six thousand, seven hundred an' forty-threedollars, an' thirty-two cents. '

"'Twenty-two cents, ' corrected the bookkeeper. '

"'Twenty-two cents, ' said Aaron. 'An' what good does it do me?Nothin' 't all. What can I buy with it, here on this here island?Nothin'. Here I am--an' here we all be--scorched an' burnt by thesun, and bit by these here scorpions, an' other varmints, an'dressed in rags an' tatters, an' all the while, all that loot ofour'n lyin' there idle in the ground. '

"At this moment Black Pedro leaped four feet into the air, andgave a bellow like an infuriated tiger. 

"'What?' he yelled, 'what? you dogs! you scoundrels! youmiserable, low-down ruffians you! Oh, that I should have lived tosee this day! Thankful am I that my father and grand-father aresafe in their graves! This would have broken their hearts. Why, you horrible villains, --do you mean to tell me that you have beendoing all this pirating for money?'

"Aaron Halyard scraped his feet in the sand, and shuffled aboutuneasily. 

"'Beggin' yer pardin', Cap'n, but what in Sancho HAVE we beendoin' of it for, else?'

"Black Pedro gave a moan, and then another bellow of rage. 

"'Out of my sight, you miserable, sordid scoundrels, --out of mysight! What? You defy me, do you? This is mutiny! Take that! Andthat!'

"He snatched two pistols from his sash and commenced firing, rightand left. The first shot hit Mike the Shark and doubled up thebook-keeper like a jack-knife, and the second one did the same forSandy Buggins. 

"'Hold hard, Cap'n!' cried the old bo's'n, 'p'r'aps you'll tell uswhat all this pirating WAS for, if it wa'n't for money. '

"'It was for the joy of pirating, you old rascal, as you ought toknow. It was for the pure love of the thing. And to think that allthese years I have been leading a base gang of money-getters!'

"And he grabbed another couple of pistols out of his boots, andbegan firing once more. At this, the pirates lost their patience. They gave a deep roar, like a herd of angry buffalo, and closed inon their Captain. He jumped back, and continued to fire. Theyswarmed around him, and in a few minutes that group of pirates, who had always lived together like brothers, had changed into ablood-thirsty mob. Knives flashed and pistols cracked. Some ofthem hit each other in their excitement, and that made them soangry that they turned and fought amongst themselves. In themeantime, the Captain was firing his pistols and slashing with hiscutlasses, and making terrible havoc amongst his followers. In tenminutes all was over. Of that proud band of pirates, once theterror of the Spanish Main, only two men were left alive. Thesewere Black Pedro himself, slightly wounded in the leg, but stillable to walk, and old Aaron Halyard, the bo's'n. Aaron was runningat top speed toward the beach, trying to get to a small boat. Alittle way behind him came the Captain. 

"'Don't you tech me! don't you tech me!' screamed old Halyard. 

"Black Pedro stopped and took careful aim, with the last of hisfourteen pistols. He pulled the trigger, but there was no report. Something had gone wrong with the priming. The bo's'n reached theboat, shoved off, and started to row for the ship. There was noother boat, and Pedro could only watch him. The old man rowed to'The Angel of Death, ' climbed aboard, and commenced, with the helpof the boy, who had been left there, to get up the foresail. Thenthey hoisted the anchor, and the 'Angel' moved slowly out of theharbor. Black Pedro sat down on the beach, and watched it fadefrom sight. When night fell 'The Angel of Death' was only a speckon the horizon. Then the pirate chief returned to his cottage. 

"On the following day a dreadful storm arose. Black Pedro knewthat no ship, manned only by an aged bo's'n and a cabin-boy, could live through such a tempest. A few days later his worstfears were realized, for by the wreckage that was washed ashore, he knew that 'The Angel of Death' had gone to pieces in the storm. When The Plank itself, worn smooth on its upper side by thehundreds of feet that had passed over it, was tossed upon theshores of Rum Island, the pirate sat down on the sand and sobbedaloud. He knew that old Halyard and the cabin-boy must haveperished, and the noblest crew of buccaneers on whom the sun hadever shone, were forever disbanded, and that he, their chief, wasnow the last of the pirates, alone and deserted on an undiscoveredand unknown island. 

"And there he lives to this day. "

CHAPTER IV

WELL BURIED TREASURE

When Mr. Daddles finished his story there was a moment's silence. Then Ed Mason asked:

"Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?" inquired Mr. Daddles, "isn't that sad enough, just as it is?"

"It's sad enough, " said Captain Bannister, "it's sad enough, allright. Once or twice I thought I'd bust right out cryin'. "

And the Captain chuckled a little, choked, and wheezed. 

"What beats me, " he went on, "is where you picked up a yarn likethat, --for you haint follered the sea very much, I take it?"

"Not very much, " said Mr. Daddles. 

"Not that yer troubles with that there canoe proves anything, "returned the skipper, "for foolisher things was never invented. Iwouldn't git into one of 'em not if you was to give me a thousanddollars. No, sir. "

"Oh, my experience of a sailor's life has been limited, " said thenew passenger. "To tell the truth, I've never been as far East asthis but once before. I was here for a few days, summer beforelast. My uncle lives at Bailey's Harbor, on Little Duck Island. "

"Does he?" asked Jimmy Toppan, --"What's his name?"

"Alfred Peabody. "

"Is HE your uncle?" exclaimed the Captain. "I know his house, --upthere on the hill, aint it?"

"Yes, but he isn't there now. My aunt was there for a while, butshe went away, about two weeks ago. The house is closed, Isuppose. "

Jimmy, who had been looking toward the shore, turned to theCaptain. 

"This is Pingree's, isn't it, Captain?"

"Yessir; this is Pingree's Beach. Two of yer better go ashore an'see old man Haskell. That's his shanty, --the one with the reddoor. Ask him to let yer have a basket of clams. Tell him I sentyer. "

Pingree's Beach was a short strip of sand, bordered with eel-grass. There were two small cottages, set above high-water mark, three dories drawn up on the shore, and a heap of lobster-pots andnets. Mr. Haskell could be seen moving in and out of his shanty. 

Jimmy Toppan and Mr. Daddles went for the clams, after the latterhad changed his bathing-suit for a shirt, and a pair of ducktrousers. Captain Bannister sailed the "Hoppergrass" quarter of amile below the beach, put about, and came back in time to pickthem up when they returned in the tender. Mr. Daddles wasinterested in the idea of a clam-chowder. He had already noticedthe funny little noise which the clams made, as their shellsopened and shut. 

"It seems rather hard-hearted to make them into a soup, " heobserved, "when they sing all the time like that. "

The Captain was not troubled by the song of the clams, however. 

"Here, Jimmy, " he said, "you take the wheel while I shuck themclams. "

"Do what to 'em?" asked Mr. Daddles. 

"Shuck 'em, " the Captain replied. 

Mr. Daddles still looked puzzled. 

"Take 'em out of the shells, " explained Jimmy. 

While the Captain worked over the clams, he had an oil-stovelighted down in the cabin, and he tried out some pork. Ed Masonhunted up a pail of fresh milk and some crackers, while I washedand peeled the potatoes. In about half an hour the dinner wasready. The Captain brought up the steaming kettle of chowder, andfrom it we filled our bowls. We also had coffee and bread andbutter, and some of the mince turnovers which Ed Mason hadbrought. Then we remembered the water-melon. 

"Don't think 'twill give yer the stomach-ache, do yer?" asked theCaptain, as he prepared to cut the melon. "You remember how itkilled one of them Black Pedros, don't yer?"

We all voted that it could not possibly give us the stomach-ache. And it didn't. Then we drew lots to see who would have theunpleasant job of washing the dishes. Ed Mason and I lost, andretired below to do the work. We could hear them talking on deck. Jimmy was still at the wheel; the Captain and Mr. Daddles lightedtheir pipes. 

"I thought, when yer begun to talk 'bout pirates, " said CaptainBannister, "that yer meant something 'bout the diggin' fortreasure on Fishback Island. "

"No; I never heard of it. "

"Why, they've been diggin' an' blastin' there for years. Somefolks was doin' it when my father was a boy. He had a try at it, an' so did I, one summer 'bout nine or ten year ago. "

"Who put the treasure there?"

"Cap'n Kidd, they said. They lay everything on him. Why, folks hascome from all round. One crowd formed a jint-stock company, an'sold shares, an' skun a whole pile of money outer people. Anotherman come in his yacht, an' he fetched a feller with him who couldfind treasure with his eyes shut, so he said. He was one of thesewizards, an' he had a divinin' rod. His divinin' rod led him rightup to a hummock in the middle of the island, an' they dug there, an' fetched up against the skeleton of an old dead hoss. That got'em all excited, an' they pitched in an' dug like Sancho. But theynever found nothin' 'cept the old hoss, an' so the wizard wentback to town, an' took his divinin' rod with him. Then there was alot of college fellers come an' camped out there all summer, once. I see 'em at it, two or three times. They was playin' base-ball, mostly. One of 'em had a map that he'd got outer some old book, an' he let me look at it. Accordin' to the bearin's of the islandit might have been most anywhere between Fundy an' Key West, butit was good enough for this feller. He was sure it meantFishback. "

"Where did you dig?"

"Oh, round anywhere. I just did it for fun, between two fishin'trips. You can go over an' see the island this afternoon, if yerwant to. Just go over to the mainland, an' take the hoss-car toSquid Cove. There'll be someone that will let yer take a boatacross to Fishback. "

An hour later we sailed into Bailey's Harbor. This was the onlyvillage of any size on Little Duck Island. A number of huts andhouses, with one or two shops, stood about the head of the inlet. Behind them a road led up a hill, and then branched, --one roadgoing off to the north-east, for the island was three or fourmiles long. The other road joined the causeway which had beenbuilt across the marsh in the rear of the island. Only this marshseparated the island from the mainland, --it was only an island inname, now. 

We came to anchor, and the Captain started us off on our trip tothe place where the treasure was supposed to lie. He rowed us into the wharf. 

"You ought to be back here by six o'clock. I'll leave yer canoewith Pike, all right, --I know where he hangs out, I guess. Take agood look round the island, an' if yer find any of the loot, don'tforget me!"

And then as we started up the wharf he called out:

"Got any money with yer? There'll be hoss-car fares to pay, yerknow. "

I felt in my pockets. 

"Mine's on the boat, " I said. 

"So's mine, " said Jimmy. 

"And so's mine, " said Ed Mason. 

"That's all right, " said Mr. Daddles, "I've brought some, --all thechange we'll need. "

We went through the village and crossed the causeway. It was onlya short walk to the end of the car line. Here was standing an oldhorse-car. The car was old, the horse was old, and the man whodrove the horse was older still. He was sitting by the side of theroad, and he eyed us suspiciously as we came up. 

"Didn't see no one else coming across the causeway, didger?" heinquired. 

"Not a soul. " I

"Guess I might's well start, then. "

He pulled a watch out of his pocket. 

"What do you make it?"

Not one of us had a watch, so we couldn't make it anything at all. We thought it was about two o'clock. 

"'Taint, " said the car-driver decidedly, with the air of a mannipping a fraud in the bud. "It's one fifty four. Didn't know butwhat Ike Flanders would be coming over, an' trying to bum his waywith me as usual. Well, climb aboard, an' we'll get under way. "

All the way to Squid Cove he entertained us with an account of IkeFlanders' many attempts to get a ride for nothing. He had neversucceeded, owing to the watchfulness of the driver. His wholelife--the driver's--seemed to have consisted of a warfare againstrascals and swindlers. People were always coming around with somescheme to cheat him, but he had defeated them all. When he foundthat we were going to row across to Fishback Island, he said heguessed he could let us take a boat, --for fifteen cents. It cameout that he not only drove the horse-car, but sold fish andlobsters, ran a boarding-house, and had one or two boats to let. He left the horse-car standing in front of his house, and camedown to the water to show us the boat. 

"Better row round to the west'ard a little, when you get toFishback, " said he, "it's kinder choppy on this side sometimes, an' if my boat got all stove to pieces on the rocks 'fore you gotashore, why, where'd I be?"

"You would be right here, " said Mr. Daddles; "where do you thinkwe'd be?"

"You? Oh, huh! Yes, that's so. Well, p'r'aps you might as wellgive me the fifteen cents now, if it's all the same to you. "

"It's exactly the same to me, " replied our friend. And he handedover the money. The man looked at it carefully, and then went backto his home. 

"What do you suppose he's going to do with that money?" Iwondered. 

"I know, " said Jimmy Toppan, "he's going to hurry off and put itin the bank, before Ike Flanders tries to get it away from him. "

"No, " said Mr. Daddles, "he's going to bury it in his garden. ""First, " remarked Ed Mason, "he'll take it into the house and testit with acid, to see if it's genuine. "

"He thinks we're a gang of bunco men, " Mr. Daddles reflected. "Iwonder why he trusts us with his boat. "

"He knows that no one would be foolish enough to steal it, " saidJimmy; "look at it!"

It was a shabby and ill-kept dory, dirty, and with half an inch ofdirty water washing about in it. But we didn't care. Almost anyboat is good enough when you are looking for buried treasure. Weset out, with Mr. Daddles and Jimmy rowing. A breeze had sprung upand the bay was a little choppy, so we splashed and bumped alongat no great speed. Mr. Daddles did not pay much attention to themanagement of his long oar, but got into a discussion with Jimmyabout what they would buy with their share of the treasure. Jimmysaid his first choice would be a sailing yacht. Next, after that, he thought he should buy a steam-yacht. Mr. Daddles said he shouldbuy a piano. 

"A piano! That's funny. What would you buy next?"

"A stick of dynamite. "

"Dynamite! What for?"

"To blow up the piano. "

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Well, you see the piano I'm going to buy belongs to a girl wholives next door to me at home. She practises on it all day long. Sometimes I get so I almost wish that she didn't have a piano atall. "

Ed Mason voted for a horse, and I for a bicycle. 

"I don't see how we can dig up much treasure, anyway, " was EdMason's comment, "not even if we find where it's buried. "

"Why not?"

"What have we got to dig with?"

That was true, --we had forgotten to bring shovels. 

"Never mind, this is only prospecting, " Mr. Daddles reminded us. "We'll look around, and if we see any place that looks treasury, we'll come back another time. "

We rowed around to the westerly side of Fishback Island, as thecar-driver had suggested, and landed in a little pebbly cove. 

Mr. Daddles was delighted with the appearance of the island. "Idon't wonder they came here for treasure, " said he. "It's the mostlikely looking place for a pirate's lair I ever saw in my life. Look at that tree on the hill, --a regular landmark. And look atthe smuggler's cave!"

He pointed to a rocky cave on the shore, just above our landing-place. We walked over to examine it, but we couldn't find anythingthere except some egg-shells and paper boxes, where someone hadeaten luncheon. Then we started on an exploring trip around theisland. It was almost bare of trees, rocky in many places, andpartly covered with scrubby grass. We found half a dozen pits andshafts where the treasure-seekers had been at work. We climbed thelittle hill where the tree stood, --it was gnarled and broken, "ablasted tree" declared Mr. Daddles in rapture. 

"Here's where the treasure chest ought to be buried, " he remarked, "with the skeleton of a pirate or two on top of it. "

"This is where the old dead horse was buried, " Ed Mason observed, digging into some loose earth with his foot. 

"That must have meant something, " I said. "Why should they bring ahorse way up here to bury him?"

"Perhaps they didn't, " Ed replied, "perhaps the horse lived uphere. "

"I'm afraid you were never made for a treasure-seeker, " said Mr. Daddles. 

Jimmy Toppan pointed to the beach on the other side of the hill. There was a smooth, sandy shore. 

"Why not go in swimming down there?" he suggested. 

The idea was a good one; we were not making much progress towardfinding any treasure, and the beach certainly looked like a goodplace for a swim. The three of us ran down the hill, pulling offour clothes as we ran. Mr. Daddles lingered for a while, butpresently joined us, and we all had a swim. 

After we had dressed we walked around the island, keeping near thewater. Everywhere there were signs of digging, but no signs oftreasure. We were in no hurry, so we strolled along, on the watchfor anything we might discover. The shore of the cove where welanded was covered with flat stones, and we spent some timeskipping them on the water, and a still longer time throwingstones at an empty bottle which we found and set afloat. After awhile Jimmy Toppan thought we ought to be going. 

"There's a fog-bank out there, " said he, "and it will be awfulthick if it comes in. "

We all looked out to sea, where a gray mass hung over the water. 

"Let's have one more look on the hill, " said Mr. Daddles, "remember how sorry we'd be if someone else came here after us, and found a chest of golden guineas. "

So up to the hill we went again, and prowled around, kicking atloose rocks, and stamping wherever the earth sounded hollow. 

"Under the tree is a more likely place, " Mr. Daddles reminded us, "they always bury it under a tree. "

"We ought to start, " said Jimmy, "the wind has come out east, andthat fog will be here before long. "

"Just a minute--look around here, boys, --we'll find it, if you'llonly look around. "

And he scrabbled around at a great rate. 

"Leave no stone unturned, " said he, turning over two of them. 

But we found nothing at all. Nothing, that is, except dirt, grass, mullein-stalks, and beetles or crickets under the stones. Mr. Daddles hunted energetically, pulling up grass by the roots, digging in the soil with his fingers, and kicking at stones withthe toes of his tennis-shoes, until he shouted "Ouch!" and jumpedabout holding his foot in his hand. Then he set to again, soexcitedly that we looked at him in astonishment. 

"P'r'aps we'd better start, " said Jimmy again. 

"In a minute, in a minute, " exclaimed Mr. Daddles, poking about. "Hunt, boys, hunt, --I feel sure we'll find something if we onlyhunt. "

We hunted, scraped over the earth and sand around that tree, andmoved every stone and pebble. 

"I tell you we must find some treasure here, --we MUST!"

"How can we?" asked Ed, "if there isn't any to find. "

"But there is. I know there is!"

We stared at him. 

"I know there is, because I buried it myself. "

"You did? When? How? Where? What for?"

"When you all went down to swim. I thought you would feeldisappointed not to find any treasure, so I buried all I had, --adollar and a quarter, --two halves, two dimes, and a nickel. Andnow we've got to find it, or we can't get back on that horse-car. We'll have to walk, --or else be as bad as Ike Flanders. "

Then we began to hunt in dead earnest. We pulled up every blade ofgrass, felt in all the crevices of the rocks, and dug a toad outof his hole. He looked highly surprised and indignant, but he gaveus no help about the money. 

"Well, I'm sorry, --sorry to get you into all this mess, " said Mr. Daddles. "We'd better leave it, I suppose, and go back to SquidCove. We can walk--and if that really is fog--"

"It's fog, all right, " said Jimmy. 

There was a sea-turn. The wind smelt salty and damp, and the fogwas creeping in. It was not more than a mile distant. We all knewenough about fogs not to want to be out in the bay in one, withouta compass, and when it was nearly sunset. So we hurried down tothe boat, and pushed off. 

"If anyone ever asks me if there is treasure on Fishback Island, "reflected Mr. Daddles, "I'll know what to tell 'em. "

The fog shut down thick before we got to the Cove, but we werealready so near that it didn't make much difference. We left theboat at the slip where we had first seen it. The horse-car wasstanding at the house, but we did not look for the driver. Instead, we set out on our tramp back to Little Duck Island. 

That was a dismal and tiresome walk. It was almost dark when westarted, and quite dark in half an hour, --a thick, foggy night. Not one of us had looked at the road much on the way over; we hadbeen listening to the car-driver's battles with crime. It wouldnot have done us much good if we had looked, for everythingchanges on a foggy night. After a while we came to a fork in theroad. 

"Which of these is ours?" asked Jimmy Toppan. 

"That's easy enough, " said Ed Mason, "follow the car-track. "

"Yes, " said Mr. Daddles, "but there's a track leading up both of'em. "

"Toss up a coin, " I suggested. 

"I will, if you'll go back to that isle of treasure and find me acoin. "

So we chose the left-hand road. In doing so we chose wrong, forafter we had gone about a mile we met a man in a wagon, who toldus that the road led to Dockam's Hole. 

"We don't want to go to Dockam's Hole, " said Mr. Daddles; "back tothe cross-roads! I begin to think I'll never see my home andmother again. This treasure-hunting is all it's cracked up to be, --and even worse. "

The man peered out of his wagon. 

"Say, I'd give you fellers a ride, if there wa'n't so many of ye. "

And he whipped up his horse and drove away into the darkness. Inan hour or more we reached the beginning of the causeway, andfifteen minutes later we were in Bailey's Harbor. 

"I wouldn't mind something to eat, " said Ed Mason. 

"Some ham and eggs, " I suggested. 

"And some of those mince turnovers, " remarked Jimmy Toppan, almostbreaking into a run. 

"And some coffee, " said Mr. Daddles. 

"Do you suppose there is any of that chowder left?" asked EdMason; "it's always better warmed over. "

"The Captain must have had his supper long ago, " said I. "And goneto bed, too, " put in Mr. Daddles, --"say, do you know, it's prettylate?"

To judge by the looks of Bailey's Harbor it might have beenmidnight. There was not a soul on the street, and only one or twohouses had a light. 

"Oh, well, they go to bed early here. "

"Don't want to worry the Captain. He expected us back beforesupper. "

"We'll relieve his mind now, all right. "

"Gee!" said Jimmy, as we tramped down the hill, "but I'll be gladto get aboard the 'Hoppergrass. ' There's nothing in the world socosy as the cabin of a boat, on a night like this. "

The same idea struck all of us, and we hurried down the wharf. Thefog had lifted a little, and blew by us in wisps and fragments. 

"For one thing, " remarked Ed Mason, "I'd like to get into some dryclothes. I'm beginning to be soaked. "

"Oh, we'll be all right again, " I said, "when we're aboard. TheCaptain--"

I stopped suddenly. We all halted on the end of the wharf, andstared across the inlet. We looked at the spot where our boat hadanchored, and then we looked up and down the inlet. The"Hoppergrass" was gone!

CHAPTER V

MIDNIGHT BURGLARS

"What!" exclaimed Jimmy Toppan, "gone?"

"Gone, " replied Ed Mason, "sailed away and left us. Like old AaronHalyard, in 'The Angel of Death'. "

Mr. Daddles looked at him and grinned. 

"At least, you remember your classics, " he said, "you can fallback on the consolations of literature in a time of sorrow. "

"But he can't be gone, " put in Jimmy, "he wouldn't sail off andleave us like this. He must be somewheres about. "

And he commenced to shout "On board the 'Hoppergrass'!" He got usto shout the same phrase. The sailor-like way of putting it didnot please Ed Mason. 

"Oh, I don't see any sense in shouting 'On board' of anything, when the whole trouble is that we're not on board. "

There was an echo from a building across the inlet--an insultingecho--which repeated the phrase, or rather the last three lettersof the last word in an irritating fashion. 

"I feel like one, " said Mr. Daddles, "but I don't like to be toldso by a blooming old echo. "

Then we all stood and looked at one another, and wondered what weshould do. 

"Friendless and alone, in a strange place, " said Mr. Daddles. 

"Wet, " said Ed Mason. 

"Hungry, " I added. 

"Tired, " said Jimmy. 

"With no money, " remarked Mr. Daddles. 

"And nothing that we could do with it, if we had it, " Jimmy Toppangloomily reflected, shoving his hands deep into his trouserspockets. 

"And it's ten o'clock, " I suggested. 

"Eleven, " said Jimmy. 

"Twelve, " thought Ed Mason. 

"Our case is desperate, " said Mr. Daddles, "but we'll pullthrough, somehow. Perhaps the Captain went treasure-huntinghimself, and has got lost in the fog. This has been a busy littleday. Now, let's see. I think I remember a woman up the road here, who used to let rooms, or--"

He broke off, and slapped the back which was nearest him, --it wasmine. 

"Well, Great Scott! That echo was right!"

"Why? What's the matter?"

"The idea of our standing here for a second, when there is ahouse, and maybe things to eat, and beds to sleep in, anyhow, --allwaiting for us!"

"Where?"

"My uncle's, of course!"

"That's so!"

"That's bully! Come on!"

"And that's not the best of it, either, " he said. "We can make anattack on that house like a real gang of burglars, and enter it intrue burglar style. I've always wanted to have a chance to commita burglary. There's nothing so exciting in the world as aburglar's life, --but what chance do you get to lead one? None atall. I was brought up to believe that it's all wrong, --many's thetime my poor old grandmother told me: 'Never be a burglar. ' Andthe effect of that teaching has not worn off. I still believe thatit's wrong to be a burglar. Besides, they put you in jail for it. But this, --they can't object to our breaking into my own uncle's. Even my grandmother would approve, I'm sure. Of course, therewon't be as much plunder as if Aunt Fanny were at home, --she'sprobably taken all the pie away with her. But there'll besomething in the pantry, even if it's only pickles. What do yousay, --shall we burglarize the house in style?"

We all agreed in delight. Mr. Daddles's enthusiasm, and hiscurious ideas made us quite forget how tired and wet and hungry wehad felt. The fog had settled down thick again, and the air andearth were damp with it. Great drops of moisture gathered on thewood-work of the wharf, and on the burdock leaves that grewbetween gaps in the planking. High overhead the sky must have beencloudless, for we could see the moon, now and then, like a dimdinner-plate, when there was a moment's rift in the fog. 

"Just the night for a deed like this, " said Mr. Daddles; "come on!But wait a minute--there's no sense in being burglars way off atthis distance, we'll be, --let's see, --we'll be smugglers, first, --a gang of smugglers. "

He insisted on forming us in single file. He led, followed byJimmy, then I came, and Ed Mason brought up the rear. 

"Remember!" whispered our leader, "we are smugglers till we get tothe top of the hill. After that, --burglars. "

We started up the wharf on tip-toes. This was rather unnecessary, for as we all had on rubber-soled shoes we could walk very quietlyeven if we went in the usual manner. Besides, it gets tiresome towalk on your tip-toes after a few minutes. But Mr. Daddles kept onthat way almost to the end of the journey. When we reached thehead of the wharf he turned around, and spoke again, with one handheld mysteriously at the side of his mouth, so not to beoverheard. 

"Now, boys, " said he, "if we meet any King's officers, --GIVE 'EMTHE COLD STEEL! If you haven't got any cold steel, give it to 'emluke warm. Give it to 'em somehow, anyhow. Remember, it's them astry to keep us honest fellows from a livelihood, just because werun a few casks of brandy and some French laces without payinganything to King Jarge, --bless him!"

And Mr. Daddles solemnly took off his hat. 

"Now, are you ready, boys?"

"Yes, " we all whispered. 

"No, no! Not 'yes', " returned Mr. Daddles, with an agonizedexpression; "you must say 'Ay, ay, --heave ahead, ' and you mustGROWL it. "

We all tried to growl: "Ay, ay, --heave ahead, " but we didn't makemuch of a success of it. 

"That's fair, " said Mr. Daddles, "only fair. You need lots ofpractice. We ought to have rehearsed this before we started. It'sembarrassing to do it here, with the eyes of the world upon us, soto speak. Now try again. "

We tried again, and our leader said we had done much better. 

"Ed, " he said, "walk with more of a roll in your gait, --a deep-searoll. See--this way. And pull your hats down low over your eyes, and glance furtively from right to left. "

"I can't roll, nor anything else, " Ed remarked, "until I get thispebble out of my shoe. "

And he sat down on the door-step of a house, and took off oneshoe. As he did so, the clock in a church belfry struck eleven. 

"Eleven, " reflected Mr. Daddles. "I mean: 'tis the signal, men! Ifthe Cap'n has not failed us the lugger should be in the cove atthis hour, --and we coves should be in the lugger, too. Ha! howlike ye the pleasantry? 'Tis a pretty wit I have, as no less a manthan Mr. Pope himself told me at the Coca Tree--No; I don'tbelieve Mr. Pope would know the mate of a gang of smugglers, --doyou?"

Jimmy Toppan and I assured him that the only Mr. Pope we knew waslibrarian of the Sunday School at home, and that if he knew anysmugglers he had kept it a secret. Ed Mason had got rid of hispebble, and he now joined us again. 

"Are you ready, men?"

"Ay, ay, --heave ahead!"

So we started once more. The streets were black as ink. They werepaved with cobblestones, and there did not seem to be any side-walks. The buildings were fishermen's and clammers' huts, boat-houses, and small shops, --all dark and deserted. The fog shut outeverything at a short distance. At the top of the hill there wasone dim light in the rear of a little shanty. 

"Hist!"

Mr. Daddles stopped us. 

"It's the lair of the old fox himself!"

"Who?"

"None but black-hearted Gregory the Gauger. Him it was--or one ofhis minions--that killed old Diccon, our messmate, but a hundredpaces from the cave, last Michaelmas. Shall we go in and slit hisweazand?"

We crept up to the window and looked in. A little man, with chin-whiskers like a paintbrush, sat inside, shucking clams by thelight of a lantern. We decided not to go in and slit his weazand. Suddenly he looked up, as if he had heard us, and then rising, started for the door. We all darted back hastily, and hid in theshadow of the next building. He came out, emptied the pail ofclam-shells, looked toward the sky, yawned, and went in again. 

As soon as he had closed the door, we were on the march. We turnedthe corner and took the road to the right. The walking wassmoother here, and the street broader. We were soon past most ofthe shanties, and following a country road, where the buildingswere far apart. They seemed to be large houses, set back from theroad, with carefully kept lawns. Mr. Daddles stopped and peered atone of them through the fog. 

"Here it is, I think. This one--or the next. No; it's this one, Iremember the fence. It would never do to walk right up the frontpath when you're going to crack a crib. We'll have to get in aback window, anyway, so we'd better go a little farther down theroad, get over the wall, circle round, and come up from the rear. "

We carried out this plan, so far as getting over the wall, andthen set out across a field. This was high ground, but the villagebehind us was still covered with the fog, and all we could see inits direction was a white cloud of vapor. The road we had justleft wound on, down the hill again, and toward what might havebeen a dark clump of trees. The grass in the field was short andscrubby, and worn quite bare in places. There was a path which Mr. Daddles knew, and this we followed in single file. 

All of a sudden we heard a strange, thumping sound, right in frontof us. We stopped short. There was a dark, indistinct mass ofsomething moving slowly toward us. It seemed to be humped up, likea man crawling forward on his hands and knees. Almost as soon aswe stopped, it--whatever it was--stopped too. It was a veryunpleasant thing to find in a lonely field, in the middle of thenight, and as I stared at it, I felt a curious prickling sensationrun all over me. 

We all stood in perfect silence. So did the thing. It looked likea man, only it was a very big and broad man, and also a very lowand stumpy one, as I said. Why he should be crawling along in thatopen field, on his hands and knees, was something I could notunderstand. Unless, --and this gave me another chilly feeling--unless he were a real burglar. I wanted to run, but I was ashamedto do so for fear of what the others would think. Moreover, although I was afraid to stay there, I was also afraid to run, forI didn't like the idea of that thing chasing me through the fog. 

So we all stood there in a group. At last Mr. Daddles steppedtoward the thing. 

"What do you want?" he said, in a low tone. 

There was no answer. The thing stayed perfectly motionless. Thiswas getting terrible. I could feel my heart thumping away, and mytemples seemed to be bursting with the blood which was pumped intothem. 

"What do you want?" said Mr. Daddles again; "come, who are you andwhat do you want?"

He took another step toward the thing, and then suddenly jumpedback. The thing seemed to sway toward us, and then it uttered ahorribly loud:

"Moo-o-o-o-o-o!"

It was a second or two before we could laugh. 

"Well, you miserable old cow!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "you nearlyscared a crowd of burglars to death!"

And he walked up to her, where she had already begun to feedagain, and slapped her fat side. She paid no attention to him, butkept on cropping the grass. 

"Come on, now, boys. I thought we were attacked by a hippopotamus, at least. "

"I thought it was a man without any legs, " said Jimmy. 

"I thought it was a real burglar, " said I. 

"I dunno what I thought it was, " said Ed Mason, "and that was theworst of it. "

And if any of you who read this think we were a silly lot to befrightened by an old cow, it is because you have never met one atnight, in a thick fog. You try it some time, and see. 

We went down a little slope, and came up behind the house andbarn. We crossed a vegetable patch, and then a flower-garden. 

Jimmy stopped Mr. Daddles. 

"We'd better look out for the dog. "

"No; my uncle never keeps one, --he doesn't like 'em. "

In a grape-arbor, right back of the house, we paused to decide ona plan of action. 

"We'll try that window first, " said our leader, pointing, "andthen the others on the veranda. I don't want to break one if wecan help it. If we have to, we'll take a basement window. You stayhere a second. "

He darted out of the arbor, and ran noiselessly up the steps. Hetried a window, gave it up, and tip-toed along the veranda toanother. No sooner had he started to raise the sash than he turnedand beckoned to us. In an instant we were out of the arbor, and atthe window with him. 

"This is great luck, --look!"

He raised the window without any trouble at all. 

"Very careless of Aunt Fanny, --but it saves us from having tosmash one. "

We all climbed inside a small room. When he had closed the window, and pulled down the shade, Ed Mason lighted a match. 

"The pantry!" we all exclaimed. 

"Yes, we've landed on our feet at last. Is that shade down? Lightthe gas . .. Keep it turned low, --that's right. Now, let's see. Wewon't find much, --family's gone away . .. Taken all the pie with'em, as I said, still, there ought to be something--"

We were all rummaging amongst the shelves and cupboards. 

"Hum!" said Mr. Daddles, "stove-polish. Anybody want any stove-polish? Raw oatmeal, --that's a little better, but not much. Notmuch choice between 'em. What's this? . .. Starch. Nice lot ofnutritious food Aunt Fanny leaves for her burglars. Now, with someflat-irons and a couple of stove-lids we could make up a jollylittle meal. What have you got there?"

I had found some dried currants in a tin box, Jimmy had a bottleof vanilla extract, while Ed Mason exhibited a box of tapioca, orsomething of the sort. 

"Well, well, --this is more careless of Aunt Fanny than leaving thewindow unlocked. No wonder she left it unlocked, --she wantedburglars to come in, and choke to death. I never saw such a lot offoolish food. Here's some raw macaroni, --another toothsome dish--nutmegs--pepper--sticky fly-paper, --better and better. Perfectlydelicious!"

"Here you are!" said Ed Mason. 

He had found a cake-box, with half a loaf of pound-cake, --the kindthat keeps for years. Just at the same instant I had climbed up ona shelf and captured two glass tumblers whose contents seemedpromising. Sure enough, --their labels bore the fascinating words:"Raspberry Jam. " Jimmy Toppan presently discovered a can of soda-crackers. Mr. Daddles plunged once more into a cupboard and cameforth with a can of the stuff you shine brass with, --the kind withthe horrible smell. 

"Always fortunate, " he murmured; "well, this will do, --what you'vediscovered. I don't seem to have contributed much to the picnic. We'll get some water to drink, and take this into the dining-room. I'm about ready to sit down and rest. Come on, --softly, now. Turnout the light. . .. Here's the kitchen . .. No, it isn't, either, --it's a laundry. . .. That's funny . .. Been making improvements, Iguess. Here we are--give me another match. No, don't light thegas, --no need . .. And here's--what's this? Butler's pantry . .. Yes. .. Passage . .. Here's the dining-room. Here we are. Shades down?Yes . .. Light the gas . .. Hullo! Where's the old stuffed sea gullgone? New paper! Oh, well, it's two years since I was here. "

Mr. Daddles wandered around the room for a while, with a puzzledair, but the rest of us were too hungry to pay much attention tohim. Ed Mason filled a water-pitcher in the butler's pantry, andJimmy brought some tumblers from a closet. I opened the jam, andgot some plates and knives. Then we all sat down and began to eat. I have never tasted anything better than the crackers and jam. Nobody said anything for a few minutes: we just ate. 

Suddenly Mr. Daddles held up his hand, --

"Sh-h-h-h-h!"

We stopped everything and listened. For a minute or two we hadquite forgotten that we were midnight burglars, and we were goingon as if we were right at home. 

"Sh-h-h-h-h-h-h!" said Mr. Daddles again, "don't you hearsomething?"

We all did hear something that very instant. No one could helphearing it. It was the strangest sound, --as much like the sawingof wood as anything I can think of. Except that toward the end ofthe stroke it seemed to run into some tough knots in the wood, forit made two or three funny, little noises, like "yop, yop, yop. "Then it stopped for a second or two, and then there was anotherlong stroke, with "yop, yop" on the end. 

"Do you s'pose it's another cow?" whispered Jimmy. 

Mr. Daddles shook his head, and held up his hand again forsilence. The noise continued with perfect regularity for half aminute, --then it stopped altogether. 

"It's in the wall, " I suggested, pointing. "P'r'aps it's a mousegnawing. "

"It's more like a buffalo gnawing, " said Ed Mason. 

"Sh-h-h-h-h-h!" said Mr. Daddles, "we ought to have looked aboutthe house a little before we began to eat. I think that's only thebranch of a tree, or something like that, scraping against thehouse outside. Anyhow, we'd better investigate. "

He got up, and lighted one of the candles on the side-board. Thenhe very carefully opened the other door of the dining-room, and weall followed him out into a hall. There we listened again, butcould hear nothing. He led the way up the back-stairs, and we tip-toed behind him. The candle which he carried flickered, and cast adim light into two rooms which opened off the landing. One was anursery, with children's blocks, stuffed elephants, and Noah's Arkanimals on the floor, and on a couch. The moon, which had come outof the fog, shone in at a window, and its light fell right on awhite rabbit sitting under a doll's parasol. He had tea-cups andsaucers on the floor in front of him, but he was perfectly quiet. The noise did not come from him. The room on the other side of thelanding was an ordinary bed-room, quite empty. 

We stole along the landing toward the front of the house. Herewere two more large bed-rooms. The beds were smooth andundisturbed, and both rooms were quiet as the grave. 

"Nothing here, " whispered Mr. Daddles, "we'll go down the frontstairs. "

He spoke in the lowest kind of a whisper, --I could hardly makeout what he said. But he beckoned toward the stairs, and we alltip-toed in that direction. I can see how that hall looked, --I cansee it now, just as I saw it, as we came down stairs. The wood-work was all painted white, some little moonlight came in throughthe glass over the front door, and that, with the candle, made itfairly clear. The stairs were broad, and they sloped gradually. There were two big portraits on the wall, one of them over thestairs. Rooms opened to right and left of the front door, and inthe corner of the hall, to the right, stood a big clock. It tickedslowly and solemnly, and a little ship, above the dial, rockedback and forth on some painted waves. I caught Mr. Daddles by thesleeve. 

"The clock is going, " I whispered. 

He nodded. "Eight day clock, " he whispered back. 

Then we continued down stairs, still walking without a sound. Justas Mr. Daddles reached the foot of the stairs, the noise beganagain. The long-drawn, sawing sound, and then the "yop, yop, yop"so loud that it nearly made us fall over backwards in surprise. There was no possible doubt from what place it came. It was fromthe room nearest the tall clock. 

Mr. Daddles instantly blew out the candle, and then we all steppedvery carefully to the threshold, and looked in. The room was alibrary, with books from the floor to the ceiling. The gas waslighted, but turned down low, and there were the smoulderingembers of a fire on the hearth. Seated in an arm chair in front ofthe fire, with his feet up in another chair, was a big, fatpoliceman. He was sound asleep, with his coat unbuttoned, his grayhelmet on the floor beside him, and his brass buttons and badgeglittering in the gas-light. On a couch at the other side of theroom lay another policeman, in his shirt-sleeves. He, too, wasasleep, his mouth was open, and from it came the most outrageoussnores I ever heard. 

"Whee-e-e--yar-r-r-r--yaw-w-w--yop, yop, yop, " he would go. Andthen he would begin it again, and go through it once more. 

We looked at this spectacle for about twenty seconds. Then we allturned around, and tip-toed back, through the hall, and into thedining-room. 

"Somehow, " said Mr. Daddles, "I think we'd better get out of thishouse. "

"So do I, " came from all the rest of us, like a chorus. 

There was no dispute about it at all. Mr. Daddles and Ed Masonstarted for the pantry without delay. 

"P'r'aps we'd better put back these dishes, " whispered Jimmy;"they might find 'em, and that would start 'em after us. "

But neither Mr. Daddles nor Ed heard him at all. The latter merelysaid "Hurry up!" and then disappeared toward the kitchen. Itstruck me that Jimmy was right, and although I was anxious to getout of the house as quick as possible, it did not seem likely thatanything would wake up those policemen for hours to come. So weput the dishes back into the butler's pantry, set back the chairs, and fixed the room, as well as we could, in the way that we hadfound it. Just as I put out the gas Jimmy slipped the pound-cakeinto his pocket. 

"We might as well have this, " he said. 

Then we hurried through the kitchen, and into the pantry. Theothers had left the window open. Jimmy went through it first, andI followed. As I stepped out into the moonlight I felt someonegrab my arm. I looked up, expecting to see Mr. Daddles. But it wasnot he. Instead, I looked into the face of a big man, with a longbeard. He had a pitchfork in his other hand. Two other men had Mr. Daddles by the arms, and some others were holding Ed and Jimmy. There seemed to be quite a big crowd of people on that veranda. 

CHAPTER VI

WE ARE OFFERED LODGINGS

The man with the pitchfork bent down and squinted in at thewindow, still holding me tight by the arm. 

"Any more on ye comin' out?" he inquired. 

"No, there aren't any more of us, " said Mr. Daddles, "you've gotthe whole gang now. "

"Better wait a second, Eb, " said one of the men who was holdingMr. Daddles. He was a fat man, with ears that stuck out the way anelephant's do, when he waves them. "Better wait a second, --yercan't tell. "

"You'll waste your time, " said Mr. Daddles, "there's no one leftin there but the policemen, --and you can't wake them up fromhere. "

"P'licemen?" queried the fat man. 

"Whatcher talkin' about?" asked the man with the pitchfork. 

"I'm talking about the two policemen who are getting their eighthours in the library, " Mr. Daddles replied, "Poor things! I hopewe didn't disturb them. "

"Don't yer believe him, Eb, " said another man, "it's some gumgame. "

"Look here, " I said, "this is all a mistake. We're not burglars. This house--"

"Yes, we know all about that, " said a man, "we've heard thisfeller tell all about his Uncle Alfred Peabody's house. It's afust-rate story, --only Uncle Alfred's is next door. This is T. Parker Littlefield's, an' you know it, too. "

"I'm afraid we did strike the wrong house, Sam, " said Mr. Daddles, "you see--"

"You betcher struck the wrong house, --you're right there, fastenough, " said a little man, who was hopping up and down in hisexcitement. He was the only one of them who was not holding one ofus. He had short, paint-brush whiskers, and I remembered him asthe man in the shanty, --the one whom Mr. Daddles called "black-hearted Gregory the Gauger. "

"You ought to be ashamed of yerself, " said he, "leadin' boys intocrime!"

"Do you mean me?" asked Mr. Daddles. 

"Yas--I mean you, --in the white pants, " he replied, looking withgreat scorn at Mr. Daddles's duck trousers, "I've heard how youperfessional crooks git boys to climb up on water spouts an' letyer in. I seen yer jest after yer passed my place, an' I knowedwhat yer was up to. "

"Well, you are quite wrong, --you're way off, " said Mr. Daddles, very seriously. "I don't suppose it will do any good, but it willsave you people from making yourselves ridiculous. It's all true, --what I told you. I thought we were getting into Mr. Peabody'shouse, and he IS my uncle. See here, --do you think we LOOK likeburglars?"

"Can't tell what yer look like, " said a man, "'we caught yer in--"

"In partiseps criminy, " said Gregory the Gauger, "that's what itwas. An' whatever you look like, you'll look different tomorrermornin'. I don't cal'late you know anything about breakin' an'enterin' Dr. Bigelow's last night?"

"No, we don't. We weren't here last night. "

"Course not, course not. Nor about bustin' into the Ellis placelast Sat'day night?"

"No, nor about that either. "

"Course not!"

The men who were holding Ed Mason had been seized with the idea ofsearching him. So they made Ed turn out his pockets in the hope offinding some stolen goods. They examined the jack-knife, cork-stopper with three fish-hooks in it, and lead sinker which theyfound, and argued whether this was plunder from the house or not. Then they started to search the rest of us, and we all had toempty our pockets. Not until they came to the pound-cake, in JimmyToppan's pocket, did they find anything of consequence, and as headmitted that he had taken that from the house, they felt thatthey had made a real discovery. They handed it over to thepitchfork man. 

"Here, Eb, " said Gregory the Gauger, "yer want to keep this--it'severdence. "

At this moment one of the policemen put his head out the window, and Eb promptly dropped the cake, and grabbed the policeman by theshoulder, remarking: "I thought there was another one on ye!"

Then he tried to drag the policeman out of the window by force. The policeman planted his feet firmly, and, as he weighed aboutthree hundred pounds, he successfully resisted all efforts to draghim. 

"What in thunder you tryin' to do?" he asked in a high, squeakyvoice. 

"TRYIN' TO DO? I'll show ye, --resistin' a officer! Here, Justin, give us a hand here, won't ye?"

In the meantime the policeman was blowing a whistle to summon hismate. Eb stooped down again, and he and the policeman looked ineach other's faces, --their noses only half an inch apart. Eb hadseen the brass buttons. 

"Be you a officer?"

"You'll find out whether I am or not!" said the furious policeman, standing up and blowing his whistle again. 

"Then watcher doin' here?"

"I'm here mindin' my own business, --I was sent here to look afterthis house--orders of the Chief. Who in thunder are you?"

"This here's the Kunsterble, " said Gregory the Gauger, nodding hishead toward Eb, "an' we've ketched the burglars. Here they be!"

The policeman blinked at us, and once more blew his whistle. Atlast the other policeman came, looking about half awake. He wasthe one who had been snoring so loud. 

"What's all this ruction about?" he asked in a very cross tone. The big policeman said something to him in a low voice, and theyboth stepped out on the veranda. The first thing that the sleepypoliceman started to do was to cuff all of us boys. But Mr. Daddles spoke up sharply, threatening to get him into trouble forit, and even Eb protected us. 

"No call to do that, Mister, " he said, "we'll see to gettin' theseyoung fellers put where they belong for tonight. Tomorrer we'llhold Court, an' find out what's what. "

Everyone began to talk at once. It came out that the policemen hadbeen sent there from the town on the mainland, at the request ofMr. Littlefield, who owned the house. He had gone away the daybefore, and as there had been two burglaries in Bailey's Harbor, or its vicinity, he did not like to leave his place unprotected. Eb and Gregory the Gauger wished to enter the house, "an' go overit to see if it's all right. " The policemen refused to allow themto enter, --probably because they did not wish it to be seen howthey had been keeping watch. 

This made Eb very angry. He seemed to feel that the dignity of hisoffice, "Kunsterble of this here island, " was not getting itsproper respect. But I think that the uniforms and brass buttons ofthe policemen rather frightened him. The only sign of his highstation was a badge, pinned to his suspenders. The two policemenended the discussion by going inside the house once more, --"tomake up their lost sleep" suggested Mr. Daddles. They retiredwithin and shut the window. 

Then Eb and the rest of them started to march us back to thevillage. The news of our capture had spread and there must havebeen twenty or thirty men and boys waiting for us at the frontgate. Some of them had lanterns, and two or three had shot-guns orrifles. 

"We left Bailey's Harbor very modestly, " Mr. Daddles remarked, "but our return is certainly impressive. "

"You better keep your mouth shut, young feller, " said one of themen, "committin' burglary aint no joke. "

"That's right, that's right, " said Gregory the Gauger, who wasflitting about from one to the other of us, "an' whatever may besaid against yer, may be used in yer favor, too, --better rememberthat. "

The constable was still more indignant because the crowd nockedaround us. 

"Clear outer here! Clear outer here!" he shouted two or threetimes. But they only laughed at him. Then we set out over thedusty road. First came Eb, with two other men leading Mr. Daddles, then Jimmy and Ed Mason, each securely held, while I was at theend of the procession, gripped by the arm and collar by a tallman, who never uttered a word. At our heels and doing their bestto step on MY heels whenever they could, came a mob of boys andmen. 

When we got back to the Harbor, it had quite changed itsappearance. From being a dark and deserted place it was now ratherlively. There were lights in most of the houses and people waitingin the street. 

On our way out of the village, an hour or two before, we hadnoticed a tent at the edge of the inlet, just above Gregory's hut. The people in the tent had turned out now, --they were three youngmen, who seemed to have been camping there. They had hung alighted Japanese lantern over the door of the tent, and one of thecampers was playing on a banjo. 

The constable halted the whole procession, and ordered one of hisassistants to put the banjo-player under arrest. 

"I won't have it!" he shouted, "he's disturbin' the peace!"

Everyone laughed at this, --there was so much noise in the streetthat the banjo could hardly be heard. But a man went across theroad, took the player by the arm, and told him that he must comealong. The banjo-player seemed to be perfectly dumb-founded; hisfriends gathered round, argued, threatened, and finally laughed, and tried to treat the whole thing as a joke. Eb was stubborn, andthe man joined our parade, with his banjo under his arm. 

The police-station and jail were both in a new building half wayup the hill. Into this we were hurried, and the doors were shut. 

"Keep 'em all out!" shouted the constable, "keep 'em all out, except members of the possy!"

The "possy" seemed to consist of Eb himself, the men who wereguarding us, --five or six of them--and Gregory the Gauger. Inever found out just what office he held, but he was clearly themost important man of the lot, --except Eb. The constable leanedhis pitchfork against the wall, lighted one or two lamps, sat downbehind a desk and put on a pair of spectacles. Then he jerked hishead, as if to beckon, toward the banjo-player. 

"Name?" said he, picking up a pen. 

"My name is Warren Sprague, " said the man. 

"Occupation?"

"I suppose you would call me a student. "

"Don't yer know that yer was disturbin' the peace--"

"Contrary to statoot, " put in Gregory the Gauger. 

"Shut up, Mose!" said the constable. 

"I thought that the peace was pretty well disturbed already, " saidthe banjo-player, -"there was so much noise in the street that itwoke us all up. I couldn't sleep, --none of us could sleep, and Ididn't see any harm in playing a tune. Whose peace could Idisturb?"

"Looky here, young feller, it won't do yer any good to get flip!"

"I'm not going to get flip. "

"Don't yer know that it's agin the law to play on a moosicalinstrument after eleven P. M. ?"

"No, sir, I didn't know it. Are you going to have me executed forit? Because if you are, I hope that you'll let me consult aspiritual adviser, first. "

"You're too fresh, young feller. I might have let yer off--"

"With a reppermand, " put in Gregory. 

"Mose, you shut your head!" said the constable. 

Then he turned again to the prisoner. 

"I mighta let yer off, but now I'm goin' to keep yer right here inthe lockup, an' consider the case tomorrer mornin'. Take himbelow, Justin. " Justin was the fat man, with the fan-like ears. Hestepped forward. 

"Number six?" he asked the constable. 

"Yup. Put him in number six. "

Justin took the prisoner by the arm, took the banjo in his otherhand, and together they started down stairs. They passed in frontof us to reach the stairs, and as they did so, the young manturned to Mr. Daddles with a smile:

"If you ever get out alive, remember me to my friends, out there. Tell 'em I passed away, thinking of them. "

"Silence in the Court!" cried Gregory. 

The constable was now in a fury. 

"If he locks up a man for banjo-playing--" murmured Mr. Daddles, --

"He'll have us burned at the stake, " suggested Jimmy Toppan. 

I had been feeling very unhappy ever since we arrived in thepolice-station. It looked to me as if we were in a pretty bad fix. The constable was so savage toward everybody it didn't seempossible that he would believe that we had broken into the houseby mistake. Also, I was so tired that I was ready to drop. We hadbeen up since four o'clock that morning, and it was now aftermidnight. It seemed to be years since we had left the"Hoppergrass, " and during the last few hours we had walked over adozen miles. 

"Now, " said the constable, "we'll make short work of you. Names?"

He really seemed to be less indignant with us, than with thebanjo-player. Burglary was a smaller offence in his eyes than"disturbin' the peace, "--with a banjo. 

He soon had the names of Edward Mason, James Rogers Toppan, andSamuel Edwards added to his list. 

"Name?" he snapped to Mr. Daddles. 

"Richard Hendricks. "

"Why!" exclaimed Ed Mason, "I thought your name was Daddles!"

"Hear that? hear that?" put in Gregory the Gauger, "that's hisElias!"

"No, it's not an alias, --in the sense that you mean. It's anickname. There is no use in going through this again. What I toldyou in the first place is all true, --and we'll prove it to you inthe morning. I know, or used to know, a number of people here. Iknow Mr. Littlefield, my uncle's neighbor, but if he's gone away, that won't do any good. But I know an old lady down the streethere, who lets rooms, and sells sweet-peas, and painted shells, and things. Isn't there such a woman?"

"What's her name? S'pose there is, --what of it?"

"I can't recall her name now. She could tell you who I am. But ifyou're determined to lock us up until the morning you might aswell do it. We're all tired out, and we've got to sleep somewhere. I warn you that you're making a mistake and that we're not theburglars you are looking for. We came in here this afternoon in aboat, as I told you. "

"I told you they come in a boat, " said a man. 

"What was the name of the boat?" asked the constable. 

"The Hoppergrass. "

"The--what's-that-you-say?"

"Hoppergrass. "

"I never heard of no such boat. "

Mr. Daddles was silent. 

"Where's the boat, now?"

"I don't know, --she sailed away. "

The constable laughed. 

"You needn't think you can play it over me, with any such story asthat, young feller. "

Justin had now returned from down stairs, and the constableordered him and another man to conduct us all below. 

"Put 'em in number four an' five. "

"Number four an' five it is!"

So we descended the stairs. Below, there was a brick-linedcorridor, with three cells on each side. At the end a kerosenelamp hung in a bracket on the wall. This was the only light. 

"Hullo!" said a cheerful voice, "how long did you get? Life-sentence?"

It was the man who called himself Sprague. His banjo stood againstthe wall just outside his cell, and under the lamp. 

"No, " said Mr. Daddles, "we're awaiting our trial in the morning, the same as you. "

"What was your crime, anyway? Whistling?"

Justin shook his head at the man in the cell. 

"You fellers better look out, --all on ye, " said he. "Eb's prettymad. An' he's got a bad temper when he gets riled, I tell you. An'folks are all stirred up about this burglin' business. "

He looked at us doubtfully, and shook his head again. The otherman--he was the tall, silent one, who had led me along the road-opened the last cell on the right and told Ed Mason and me to goin. Mr. Daddles and Jimmy were put in a cell across the corridor. The tall man vanished upstairs, leaving us all locked in. Justinwas turning down the light. 

"Look here, old sport, " said the banjo-player, "just let me havethat, will you?"

He pointed toward the banjo. Justin's jaw dropped, and he raisedhis hands in horror. 

"Let yer have that? Holy Cats! Why, Eb would skin me alive--an'you too--if you was to play on that thing down here!"

"I don't want to play on it, " replied the man, "but the stringswill get damp, and break, out there. Just let me have it in here, --that's a good fellow. I can let the strings down a bit. No goodspoiling 'em. I won't play a note on it. Honest Injun!"

"Sure about it?" asked Justin. 

"Sure. Honest, I won't. "

"Well, all right, then. Mind what yer promised, now!"

He took a key down from a hook under the lamp, unlocked the celldoor, and passed in the banjo. After locking the door with greatcare, and replacing the key on its hook, he bade us all goodnight, and went upstairs. 

"Burglary? Is that what the Czar has run you in for?" This fromthe stranger with the banjo. 

"That is the crime with which we are charged. "

"Well, I must say you disappoint me. I had always hoped forsomething better in the way of burglars. I hope you won't beoffended but really, you know, you don't look DESPERATE enough. "

"It's our first offence, " said Mr. Daddles. 

"That's what I thought, " said the stranger heartily, "but I didn'tlike to say so, --for fear of hurting your feelings. Cheer up, --you'll improve as time goes on. "

"Have you been here long?" I asked. 

"Came in yesterday, --or day before yesterday, rather. We were inthat black sloop, --perhaps you noticed her? You were in the whitecat-boat, weren't you? We saw you when you came in. "

"Did you see her go out?"

We all asked this eagerly. 

"No, --has she gone out? We were on board our boat all theafternoon, --down in the cabin, I guess. Wish I'd stayed there. Butwe had the tent, --one of the fellows likes to sleep on shore, andso we all stayed. Say, this is a little bit of Russia, isn't it?Eb could give the Czar points. This is a new police-station, andhe thought it ought not get rusty. "

"Find your quarters comfortable over there?" asked Mr. Daddlesacross the corridor. 

"Great!" said Ed Mason. He had already taken off his coat, rolledit up for a pillow, and lain down on one of the wooden benches inour cell. I was preparing to do the same. Upstairs we heard thefront door slam, as Justin, and the last of the "possy, " left thepolice-station. 

"S-s-s-t!"

This came from the banjo-player's cell. 

"Watch this, boys!"

I looked out the barred door of our cell, and so did Mr. Daddlesand Jimmy from theirs, on the other side of the corridor. Thebanjo-player, holding his instrument by the head, was poking theneck of it through his door. Very carefully he managed it, and Isoon saw what he was after. The big key, hanging on the wall underthe lamp, was just within his reach. With the utmost care heinserted one of the keys of the banjo in the ring of the cell key, and drew it off the hook. Then holding the banjo very delicatelyhe pulled it slowly inside the cell, until he had the key in hishands. Then he grinned out at us. 

"Talk about Baron Trenck and Monte Cristo!" he said. 

In a second more he had put one hand through the bars of his cell, put the key into the lock and let himself out. 

"What's the matter with this, --hey, what? Another chapter inCelebrated Escapes!"

Then he tip-toed back into his cell, and shut the door again. 

"It won't do to go upstairs too soon. I'll give 'em time to gethome. Then I'll get the keys to your cells, --never shall it besaid of Despard D'Auvigny that he deserted his friends inmisfortune! A regular jail-delivery, --what? The destruction ofthe Bastille was nothing to this! And we'll carry Eb's head on apike. "

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I never thought of that! Do yousuppose the keys to our cells are upstairs? I thought you were theonly one to get anything by this, --I was resolving always to carrya banjo with me. "

"Why, I guess they'll be upstairs, --I can't for the life of me seewhy this was left down here. But I don't care, --I've no fault tofind with the arrangement. Now, we'll have to wait awhile. "

We all sat down and waited for about ten minutes. Then the banjo-man, saying "the hour has came!" opened his door again, and stolesoftly upstairs. Half way up he turned and came back for a match. Mr. Daddles gave him one, and he vanished with it. He was gone along while, and we began to be in despair, thinking that hecouldn't find the keys, or perhaps that he had gone away withouttroubling himself any more about us. 

At last however, we heard him once more on the stairs. He camedown, on tip-toe, holding up two keys. He was smiling gleefully. 

"They were in Eb's desk and all tagged and numbered. "

In a moment or two we were all out in the corridor. Our new friendlocked all the cell doors, and hung up his key on its hook. 

"It shall be an unsolved mystery to them all. They shall puzzlethemselves bald-headed over it, " he whispered. 

Upstairs we stopped long enough to return the keys to Eb's desk. Our friend still had his precious banjo under his arm. We had togo cautiously in the dark, as we dared to light only one match, and that we kept covered as well as we could. There was a windowat the rear of the building, and unlike the window in the corridorbelow, it was not barred. 

Mr. Daddles and I looked out. There were no lights to be seen, andno people about. We raised the window very cautiously, an inch ata time. 

"Country police have their disadvantages, " whispered Mr. Daddles, "but they have this virtue: they go home at night, and let thejail take care of itself. In the city, we should have had to pickour way through the slumbering forms of innumerable cops. "

We listened at the window. Bailey's Harbor, after its greatexcitement over the captured burglars, had gone home, and gone tosleep. Everything was quiet as a graveyard. We could hear theslapping of the water against the timbers of the wharf, andsomewhere, a rooster, disturbed by the moonlight, crowed once. Itwas a dim and sleepy sound, and it was not repeated. The fog hadnearly gone; the moon shone clear. 

One by one, and as quiet as mice, we crawled through the window, and dropped to the earth below. 

CHAPTER VII

BUT WE DECIDE TO GO

Mr. Daddles stood on a ledge of the building a moment, and quietlypulled down the window. 

"It wasn't locked, " he muttered, "so there'll be nothing to showhow we got out. "

We were in a little yard at the rear of the jail. There was alarge empty building, --a barn, or a boat-builder's work-shop, onthe next lot. It cast a deep shadow over one side of the yard, andwe kept in this shadow, as we stole toward the fence. A shortalley ran down the hill on the other side of this fence. In amoment or two we were tip-toeing through the alley. It seemed tome that I had been going on tip-toe for hours, --I wondered if Iwould forget how to walk in the usual way. 

Everything was quiet; we met no one, and heard nothing. Turning upthe street we kept on, silently, until we reached the open spacenear the water. There was the tent, white and still in themoonlight. We looked in at the flap of the tent, --two dim formslay wrapped in blankets, breathing heavily, and both sound asleep. 

"Look at 'em!" said the banjo-man, in a low tone, "sleeping likebabes, while _I_ was languishing in jail. "

"Wake up!" he said, in a slightly louder voice, prodding thenearest one with his banjo. 

"Ub-ber-ubber-er-bubber-yah!" remarked the man, sitting boltupright, and looking about him, as if he had been attacked by wildanimals. 

"That's all right, " said Sprague, "it's only me. Don't getexcited. Keep quiet, --don't bubber any more. We're huntedcriminals, with a price upon our heads. Prices, I should say. "

The other man stirred slightly, and rolled over. 

"Hullo! That you? Rescued from a county jail?"

"Rescued nothing!" replied Sprague, "I might have died in jail ofold age before you would have done anything. Got out by our ownvalor and ingenuity. Tunneled through fifteen feet of living rock. Now, get up, and be quiet about it, --the hounds of the law are onour trail, and we must leave these shores quick. "

The second man arose swiftly, and began folding his blankets. Theother one, however, --the one who had wakened uttering gibberish--crossed his hands over his knees, and said: "I don't know aboutthis!"

"No, " said Sprague, "of course you don't. We'll discuss it on theboat, --you shall argue it out to your heart's content. Come out ofthe tent, now'. We're going to get under way, and quit this placejust as soon as we can, --and that's in about two shakes. "

The second man had come out of the tent, bringing his blanketswith him. Mr. Daddles and all the rest of us set to work pullingup the tent stakes. But the other man sat there, shaking his head. 

"I think you're making a mistake, " said he; "of course thatconstable was very arbitrary in his manner, but he IS theconstable, just the same. I inquired and found that he is. Thearrest was perfectly legal. You had much better stay in jail untilmorning, and submit to a fine which would probably be merelynominal. As it is, you are becoming a fugitive from justice--"

"That's right, and I'm going to fuge just as quick as I can. Comeout from under the tent, Lord Chief Justice, or you'll get a blowon the cocoanut that will damage that legal mind of yours. Theseare my friends and fellow-criminals, the alleged burglars. . .. Allright there? Everything clear? . .. I fear they are innocent, however, just as I am guilty, --of banjo-playing. "

"No, but listen a minute--"

At this moment the other man snatched down the tent pole and thewhole thing fell on the "Lord Chief Justice, " leaving himfloundering under waves of canvas, and tangles of rope. "Nevermind him, " said Sprague, "two of you hustle down and push off theboat, --it will take us three trips to get the tent and everythingon board. "

Jimmy Toppan and one of the other men (the second one to wake up, --they called him "Pete") hurried down to the water's edge. The"Lord Chief Justice" (whom they called "Chief, " for short) crawledout from under the canvas, and we began to fold up the tent. Itwas a small one, and they had nothing in it except their blanketsand some cushions and pillows from the yacht. 

The Chief, still muttering and complaining, was sent out on thefirst trip, with Jimmy Toppan and Ed Mason. He and Jimmy werecommanded to get up the sails, while Ed brought back the boat. This time he carried the tent, and then came back for the pillows, blankets and cushions. All this took more or less time, --fifteenor twenty minutes, perhaps. Mr. Daddles and Sprague kept theireyes on the little street nearby, to make sure that we were notobserved. 

Just as Mr. Daddles and I were getting into the boat, someonespoke from the shadow of a building. 

"Aha!" said a voice. 

Then a man stepped out into the moonlight, and advanced a littletoward us. 

"Leavin' kinder sudden, aint yer?"

It was Gregory the Gauger. He walked still nearer. Then herecognized Mr. Daddles and me. 

"What's this? What's this?" he snapped, "got out, didger? Thoughtyer was escapin', didger? Consider yerselves under arrest. Iapprehend yer in the name of the Commonwealth. Stay right whereyer be. I'll go an' get Eb. "

"No, you won't, either, " said Mr. Daddles. 

He and Sprague darted forward at the same moment. They grabbed thelittle man, each by an arm, and commenced walking him rapidlytoward the boat. 

"Here, here! Whatcher doin'? Lemme be! Lemme be! This is assault!Lemme be, I tell yer!"

They led him, still chattering and protesting, right to the boat. 

"We don't want you with us, --not a little bit. But you'll have tocome, if you don't keep quiet. Then you'll have a beautiful caseagainst us. "

"Help! Help!" he squealed. 

Mr. Daddles clapped a hand over his mouth, and they lifted him offhis feet into the boat. Pete jumped in beside him, and smotheredhis cries with a pillow. Ed and I pushed off, and climbed in overthe bows. In a minute we were alongside the yacht. Mr. Daddles andSprague jumped on board, and Pete handed Gregory the Gauger up tothem. He had to drop the pillow to do this, and as soon as thelittle man's mouth was uncovered he began his protests right wherehe had left off. 

"Help!" he squeaked, "help! Lemme be! Put me back on shore, I tellyer! I'll have every last one of yer in State's Prison for this. It's abducshun, --that's what it is, --d' yer hear? It's abducshun!"

"Yes, and you've already got assault and battery against us, andsmothering-with-a-pillow, to say nothing of burglary, breakingand entering, and banjo-playing after 10 P. M. We won't any of uslive long enough to serve out our sentences, not even if we getold enough to make Methuselah look like a spring-chicken. "

"And if you go on with that yelping, my friend, " added Sprague, "we'll add piracy on the high seas, keel-hauling, drowning in asack, and hanging at the yard-arm to our list of accomplishments. I would have you know that we are desperate men. This person"--pointing to the Chief, "is the only law-abiding one amongst us. If you'll be good and quiet, and sit down and behave until we arewell away, you will come to no harm. "

"And we'll let you exchange legal chit-chat with the ChiefJustice, here, " added Pete. 

But nothing could quiet the captive. He broke away from them, ranup to the bow, and began once more to call for help. At this, Peteand Sprague seized him and gently led him down into the cabin. They closed the cabin doors and left him there. Instantly he beganto pound and thump on the deck. 

"Let him thump, " said Sprague, "it's time we departed. "

"Yes, " said Ed Mason, "any moment I expect to see Eb coming downto the shore. "

"With his pitchfork, " added Mr. Daddles. 

We got the anchor up, and the boat began to move out of the inlet. The breeze was light, but two short tacks took us into the bay. 

"Where do you want to go?" inquired the Chief, gravely. He wassailing the boat. 

"'Somewheres east of Suez, '" said Sprague. "I don't care. I shouldlike to go to sleep. And I should think you burglars would beabout ready for a nap. "

"We are!" we all groaned. 

"The Chief and I will stand watch, " said Pete, "I'm not sleepy. ByGeorge! It's a great night. "

He yawned, stretched both arms in the air, and gazed up toward themoon. Suddenly he brought both arms down at his sides. 

"Great Scott!" he cried, "we've forgotten Simon!"

The Chief gave a snort of disgust. 

"If you're going--" he began. 

"That's so! that's so!" shouted Sprague, "put about, Chief!"

The Chief groaned. "Positively, " he said, "you make me sick!"

"Then you're in no state to sail the boat, " replied Pete, "here, get away from the wheel!"

He pushed the indignant Chief away, and taking the wheel himself, began to put the boat about. 

"Who's Simon?" asked Mr. Daddles. 

Nobody paid any attention to his question. 

"To think of forgetting him!" exclaimed Pete, "can you seeanything of him, Warren?"

Sprague had run up forward, and was peering ahead as we enteredthe inlet. 

"Here he comes!" he cried, "by Jingo, here he comes! Well, what doyou think of that? Isn't he a brick, Pete?"

I tried to see what all this was about. The moon was bright on thewater, and at last I could make out some white thing, like a seagull, moving toward us. We were running before the wind and soonwere near enough to get a good view. It was a bird of some kind. We were in no doubt about the kind when it raised itself upon thewater, flapped its wings and uttered a loud "Quack! qu-a-a-a-ck!"

"It's a duck!" said Ed Mason. 

"Of course it's a duck, " replied Pete, "we got him at Duck Island, too. It's Simon. Can you reach him, Warren?"

"I think so, " answered Sprague, "easy now!"

Pete brought the yacht carefully alongside the duck, Spraguetwined one foot around the bob-stay, reached over and lifted thebird into the boat. As soon as it was set on deck the duck shookits feathers, gave one defiant waggle of the tail, and paddledaft, remarking: "Quack! quack! qua-a-a-ck!"

"Well! Simon, old man!" said the delighted Pete, "did you think wehad left you behind? You didn't think that of us, did you? But youhad started out to overtake us, hadn't you? That shows what a goodold sport you are. The Chief might have left you in the lurch, butyour Uncle Warren and I wouldn't. "

Simon waddled about a little, and finally settled down in thecenter of a coil of rope. Once more we turned and started again onour flight from Bailey's Harbor. 

It was a beautiful night. The moonlight sparkled on the water, andshone clear and soft on the sails of the boat. The breeze was cooland delicious. Gregory the Gauger had stopped thumping andeverything was very pleasant and restful after the jail, and theother exciting events of the night. Except for the sound of thewater at the bow, we sailed for five or ten minutes in perfectsilence. My eyes half closed and my head fell forward as I sat inthe cockpit. 

"Well, I'd go below, and turn in, " said Mr. Daddles, "but I don'tknow about facing that sabre-toothed tiger down there. We made agreat mistake, boys, in not slitting his weasand the first time wesaw him. Somehow, I think I'm going through life with him in closepursuit. "

"Let's see what he's up to now, " said Sprague. 

"He's probably scuttling the ship, " suggested Jimmy Toppan. 

Sprague opened the cabin doors, and pushed back the hatchway. Gregory had lighted the lamp and was calmly engaged in examiningthe clock. To our surprise the wrath seemed to have gone out ofthe man. 

"Where didger git that air clock?" he asked, peering up atSprague. 

"In Boston, " Sprague answered him, "what do you think of it?"

"Pretty fair, pretty fair. What does a clock like that cost?"

They entered into a conversation about the clock, and some of theother furnishings of the cabin. Sprague asked him if he wanted tocome on deck. He accepted the invitation and came up. 

"You'd better look out for him, " Mr. Daddles whispered to Pete, "this may be guile. "

Then all of us, except Pete, the Chief, and our prisoner, wentbelow, and prepared to turn in. Jimmy Toppan stretched himself outon a bunk and went to sleep in no time at all. Ed Mason and Ipicked out places for ourselves, while Mr. Daddles made himselfcomfortable with a couple of pillows under his head. 

"Today, " I heard him murmur, "I've lost my steamboat, been wreckedon a desert island, been rescued, fallen overboard, rescued again, lost my money hunting buried treasure, was deserted by the boatthat rescued me, and left stranded in Bailey's Harbor, been scaredpink by an old cow, committed burglary, scared again by a snoringpoliceman, got arrested by the High Sheriff and his posse, confined in dungeons, escaped from jail, committed abduction, Gregory-snatching, and muffling-with-a-pillow. I wonder--"

Here his voice trailed off into a whisper. 

I had expected to go to sleep as soon as I lay down, but I foundthe cabin rather close and stuffy. Sprague and Ed Mason didn'tseem to mind it, --they lay still, and were evidently asleep. Ihitched about for a while, and finally decided to go up on deck. It struck me that I could sleep better there. 

So I took a pillow and went up. Gregory was sitting in the cock-pit, contentedly smoking a clay pipe and watching the sails withthe air of an owner. Pete and the Chief were both sitting quietlyin the stern. The Chief was again at the wheel. I found somecanvas, part of a sail-cover, and stretched myself out on a seat, with the canvas over me to keep off the dampness. In a minute ortwo I was asleep, --the best and most refreshing sleep I everremember. All through the rest of the night I was dimly aware ofthe sound of the water about the bows, and the cool breeze on myface. 

When I woke it was broad daylight. The boat had come to a stop, the mainsail was down, and they were taking in the jib. I heardthe anchor go over with a splash, and then Pete came running aft. 

"Hullo! Awake? How are you?"

"All right. Where are we?"

"I don't know. Unknown island. "

I sat up and looked over the starboard side of the boat. We werein a little bay, and there was land about a hundred yards distant, --a rocky island with pine trees, and two or three small cottagesset amongst the trees. I heard someone talking on the other sideof the boat, and I looked up forward to see Sprague, in a bathingsuit, and Gregory the Gauger. Sprague was entertaining the Gaugerwith a poem which he had been reciting at intervals ever since wemet him. 

"'She'd git her little banjo an' she'd sing Kulla-lo-lo!'--but notin Bailey's Harbor, --hey, what? She wouldn't get her little banjothere, or you'd run her in, wouldn't you, Squire? You and theConstable!"

"Where did you get that poem?" asked Pete, who was furling thesail. 

"I read it in a paper last week. Isn't it great? It's by a manwith a funny name, --I wish I could remember it! 'An' the dawncomes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!' That's the waythe dawn does come up over there, isn't it? Ever been in China, Squire?"

"No, I haint, " said Gregory. "Where be you fellers goin' to put meashore? That's what I want to know. "

"All in good time, Squire, all in good time. Watch this, --I betyou can't do it!"

And Sprague made a clean dive and scoot under the water, came upthirty feet away, and commenced to float, facing the boat, andwaggling one big toe at Gregory the Gauger. 

It did not take me two seconds to know what I wanted to do, nortwo minutes to get overboard. The water was cold, but I swamaround the yacht, before I climbed out again. One by one theothers came up from below, and they all jumped over for a swim, except Gregory and the Chief. The latter went poking about, in hissilent, methodical way, paying no attention to the orders whichSprague fired at him. 

"Food! food!" called the banjo-player, climbing aboard; "my wastedframe cries aloud for food. Get out the frying-pan, Chief, and thecoffee-pot! Move about more briskly, --remember that I have beenmany days on bread and water in a dungeon . .. Oh, hang it!"

He floundered about in his shirt, which he had put on wrong sideforemost in his hurry. 

"Fish out those eggs, and see if there are any rolls left, --I'llmatch you for yours, Squire. You won't be hungry, you haven't beenin swimming. "

"Ketch me goin' into that water!" returned Gregory, "I'll make myabbalootions right here. "

And he proceeded to wash his face and hands over the stern of theboat. We were all very much awake now, very hungry, and no longertired. The swim had opened our eyes. The drowsy moonlight worldhad gone and given place to one of sunshine. A breeze rattled thehalliards against the mast, and ruffled the blue water of the bayin little patches. We hurried into our clothes, while the Chiefwarned us to keep out of the cockpit, and not get everything wet. Sprague struggled with his shirt, and declaimed his favorite poemin a muffled tone. 

"'And the flyin' fishes play, '--And speaking of flying-fishes, where is Simon? Has he had his morning swim? . .. Oh, there he is, --paddling about like a good one! Swims like a duck, doesn't he, Squire?"

"There's nothing for breakfast except bacon and eggs, " said theChief. 

"And coffee and rolls, " added Pete, "what more do you want, youold lemon?"

"No, there are only three rolls. Some of us will have to eatcrackers. "

"I will eat marline-spikes, " said Mr. Daddles, "if you've got anyof them on board. I've never seen one, --though I've heard of thema great deal. "

"I'll eat crackers, " declared Jimmy Toppan. 

"So will I, " said Sprague, "and glad to get 'em. I might begnawing a bone in jail, now, instead. "

"And there's no milk, " said the Chief, "we were going to get some, and some bread, this morning in Bailey's Harbor. "

"If you had endured the sufferings that _I_ have in Bailey'sHarbor--" began Sprague. 

"There are three dozen eggs, " said Pete, "and that's more thanfour apiece, and there is plenty of bacon, --stop talking and getbusy. "

In ten minutes we were eating breakfast. They had trouble to keepus all supplied with fried eggs, until two skillets were put intocommission. Then there was silence for a time. 

"There's an apple pie down there, " remarked Sprague, as he helpedhimself to another cup of coffee. 

Mr. Daddles hurried below, and soon came up with the pie. 

"I hope some of you will, " said he, "you do, in this region, don'tyou?"

"In obscure parts of the ulterior, " said Pete, "I have heard thatthe habit lingers of eating pie for breakfast. It's merely atradition in my family, I regret to say. "

"The old, robust stock is dying out, " said Sprague, mournfully, "but my father has told me that in his youth he often saw hisfather do it. We are over civilized, but if there should be anygreat national crisis, --a war, or anything like that, --I have nodoubt that New England would rally once again, and--"

"I am so much disappointed, " said Daddles, turning slowly about, with the pie in one hand, "my poor grandmother has often told meabout it, and I did hope to see the weird, old custom practised onits native heath--won't you? Or you?"

He turned to one after the other of us. 

"Yer can give me a mejum piece, " observed Gregory the Gauger, looking up from his fifth fried egg. 

Mr. Daddles cut a large slice in evident delight. Gregory ate it, slowly and thoughtfully. 

"Have some more?"

The Gauger held out his plate. 

"Jes' mejum, " said he. 

After breakfast, we of the "Hoppergrass" held a council. 

"The Captain will come back to Bailey's Harbor, " said JimmyToppan, "but we can't go there at all. We'll have to go somewhereelse, and send a message to him. "

"We might go to that place--what's its name? Squid Cove, " Ed Masonsuggested. 

"And send a message to him by the car-driver, " I added. 

"We'll have to write it in cipher, " said Mr. Daddles, "for itwould never do to have it fall into the hands of Eb. "

"How do you know that he will come back there?" I asked. 

"I don't, " said Jimmy, "but it's the most likely thing to happen, isn't it?"

"The most likely thing doesn't seem to happen on this trip, "remarked Ed Mason, who was feeding Simon, the duck, with crackercrumbs. 

Sprague broke in on our conversation. 

"This charming little island, " said he, pointing over hisshoulder, toward the land, "is not an island, at all, it seems. Itis a cape, or promontory, or perhaps more properly a peninsula. Its name, so the Squire tells us, is Briggs's Nose. Probably theman who gave it that name perished long ago, --slain, no doubt, bythe residents. At any rate, it is so far from the nearest town onthe mainland that we believe it will be safe to land the Squirethere. He can take the steamer this afternoon and get home beforedusk. All who wish to kiss the Squire good-bye should thereforeget ready. The line forms on the left. "

Gregory the Gauger was disposed to grumble at being set ashore. 

"Fear not, Squire, " said Sprague, "crowns for convoy shall be putinto your purse. Many a ship's crew would have marooned you on adesert island, or set you adrift. "

"With some ship's bread and a beaker of water, " added Mr. Daddles. 

"Quite so, " said Sprague, "only we couldn't find a beaker onboard, --and wouldn't have known one if we HAD found it. "

Pete and the silent Chief prepared to row Gregory ashore. Justbefore they left Sprague gave the prisoner some money forsteamboat fare, and Mr. Daddles presented him with the remains ofthe apple pie, begging him to keep some of it for breakfast nextday. 

Twenty minutes later our friends were on board again, and we weregetting up the anchor. Jimmy Toppan, the Chief, and Sprague wentbelow to consult a chart, while the rest of us got the yacht underway. When they came back on deck the Chief took the wheel, announcing:

"Lanesport it is. "

"Why Lanesport?" asked Pete. 

"It's the nearest town on the mainland to Bailey's Harbor, " saidJimmy Toppan. 

"Then I should think you'd better steer clear of it. "

"Oh, they won't have heard anything yet, " answered Sprague, lyingdown on a seat, with his banjo. And he added: "Assisted by Simon, I will now give you a little song. "

"Do you think we'll find the 'Hoppergrass' at Lanesport?" inquiredEd Mason. 

"We can but try. We'll do a little sleuth-work there, anyhow. "

"Who will you inquire from?"

"Oh, anybody. Do not interrupt me again, or I will sing 'Rocked inthe Cradle of the Deep. ' Honest, I will. "

A little before noon, we sailed up the river to Lanesport. The oldtown lay very still in the baking sun. There were schooners in thestream, and one or two at the wharves. A few sloop-yachts and cat-boats were at anchor in the river, but none of them was the"Hoppergrass. " Old and dilapidated wharves ran down to the river, some of them deserted, and covered with grass. There were tumble-down buildings at the water's edge, and they were mostly blackwith age. The town looked as if it had been sound asleep for ahundred years. 

The Chief skilfully sailed our boat up to a wharf, where there wasa landing-stage, and all of us, except our skipper, went ashore. Half way up the wharf we found a man, painting a row-boat. He knewnothing about the "Hoppergrass" and said he had never heard of it. 

"We'll walk up into the town, " remarked Pete, "we've got to getsome grub, anyway. "

We strolled up the wharf, and along a quaint and crooked street. The sidewalk was so narrow that we had to walk in single file, andthe curb-stone, as Mr. Daddles put it, was made of wood. Therewere a few shops, but as most of them sold ships' supplies, we didnot go in any of them. A pleasant smell of tar came from eachdoor. 

Presently we reached a square or market place. Here were moreshops, a butcher's, a grocery, and one that announced "Ice Cream. "A peanut-stand, sheltered by an umbrella, stood in the middle ofthe square, and toward this we made our way. An aged Italian satbehind it, reading a newspaper. He sold us peanuts, and exchangedfacetious remarks with Mr. Daddles. As we left the peanut man, weheard a far-off shouting. Down the street came a tall, thin man, ringing a great dinner-bell. He was very lame and made slowprogress. Now and then he would halt, and shout something at thetop of his voice. 

"What's the matter?" Sprague asked a man, who stood in the door ofa cigar-shop, "is there a fire?"

The man grinned. 

"That's the town-crier, " said he. 

"Town-crier!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I didn't know there were anyof 'em left. "

"There aint, " said the man, "except this one. He's the last one of'em. "

The crier limped slowly down the street toward us. We all haltedto hear his next announcement. Stopping in the middle of thestreet he solemnly rang his bell two or three times. Then he threwback his head, and bellowed in a tremendous voice:

"Hear--what--I--have--to--say! Stolen! the cat-boat--Hannah--J. --Pettingell--from--Mulliken's Wharf--yesterday--afternoon! Reward--will--be--paid--for information!--Apply--to--the--owner--at--the Eagle--House!"

CHAPTER VIII

HUNTING THE HOPPERGRASS

"Did you ever hear the like of that?" said Mr. Daddles, in a kindof awed whisper; "don't move, --he's going to do it again!"

But Ed Mason, Jimmy Toppan, and I were not be to restrained. 

"That's the 'Hoppergrass'!" we all burst out, at the same instant. 

"What's the 'Hopper'--?" began Mr. Daddles, but his voice wasdrowned out by the crier. Beginning with his "Hear what I have tosay!" he repeated the announcement word for word as he had givenit the first time. Then he rang his bell with four, slow, deliberate motions, and started to hobble away. 

We were after him in a second. 

"Where is it?"

"When was it stolen?"

"Where's Captain Bannister?"

The crier looked down at us with some air of indignation, andshifted his quid of tobacco. 

"Apply at the Eagle House, " said he, pointing his thumb over hisshoulder. 

"Come on! come on!" we begged the other three, "let's go to theEagle House!"

"Why? What for?"

"That's the 'Hoppergrass' he said was stolen. Captain Bannister ishere, --at the Eagle House!"

"But he didn't say the 'Hoppergrass';--he said the HannahBillingsgate. "

"Pettingell. That's the other name of the 'Hoppergrass'. "

"The other name? Does she travel under an Elias, as Gregory theGauger calls it?"

"No, no! The captain doesn't like 'Hoppergrass' and he said he hadthought of changing the name. Come on, --let's go to the EagleHouse. "

We made them understand at last, and then we started up the streetin the direction that the crier had pointed. On the way, JimmyToppan was struck by doubts. 

"I don't see how the Captain COULD change the name like this. Youhave to register a new name for a boat, I think. "

"You said that he was thinking of calling her the Hannah J. What--is--it? Didn't you?"

"Yes. "

"Well, then, it must be the same boat. There wouldn't be twoknocking about, with a name like that. "

We found the hotel presently. There were two elderly men sittingon the little piazza, and they hitched their chairs around andwatched us through the window as soon as we entered the office. This room was empty, but after we had stamped and coughed a gooddeal, a small man in shirt-sleeves came from some room in theback. 

"Is Captain Bannister here?"

"Bannister? Oh, no, Bannister aint here!"

This in a tone which was as much as to say: "I wouldn't have a manlike that on the premises. "

"Well, he WAS here, wasn't he?"

"Was here? Oh, yes, he WAS here, --last night. "

(As if to say: "He was here until we got on to him. ")

"Has he gone away?"

"Gone away? Oh, yes, he's gone away. "

This seemed to strike the two men on the piazza--whose ears werealmost stretching through the window--as a joke. They both laugheduproariously. The hotel man was evidently unwilling to give up anyinformation until it was wrenched out of him, bit by bit. Mr. Daddles continued the cross-examination. 

"Do you know where he's gone?"

"Oh, he went away before six o'clock. "

"Well, do you know WHERE he went?"

"Where? Oh, he told me--Joe, where'd he say he was goin'?"

One of the men on the piazza answered:

"Big Duck. "

"Big Duck Island?"

"Yup. He--"

The other man broke in. "He says to me that he was goin' toRogerses'. "

"Rogerses'? Where's that?"

"Rogerses' Island, " said the hotel man, "'bout three miles t'otherside of Bailey's Harbor. "

One of the men now came in from the piazza, and after muchquestioning we found out all they knew. Captain Bannister hadarrived in Lanesport sometime the latter part of the afternoon. Heleft the "Hoppergrass" at the wharf, and came up into the town. When he returned, an hour later, his boat had disappeared. One ortwo men had seen it sail down the river, but in the fog had notnoticed who was on board. The Captain "flew round like a coot shotin the head, " declared our informant. He went from one wharf toanother, started to hire a yacht and go in pursuit, but gave upthe plan. Then he went to the police-station. 

"The police reckoned it was some of them burglars had took it. Thefellers that have been breakin' into houses on Little Duck. "

"They've ketched them fellers, " said the hotel man. 

"Ketched 'em?"

"Yes. Got 'em last night, breakin' into a house in Bailey'sHarbor. Bert Janvrin was in here not more'n ten minutes ago, andhe heard 'bout it from a feller that was off Bailey's thismornin', haulin' lobster-pots. They got the whole gang, and put'em in jail, an' they all got out again, somehow, an' got away ona boat, an' there's a man missin', --Mose Silloway, --you knowMose, Joe--an' they think likely he's been murdered by 'em. "

Mr. Daddles looked at me very gravely, and rubbed his upper lip, hard. 

"Dear me!" he said, "why, that's terrible! I hope it will turn outall right. Well, we want to find Captain Bannister and his boat. How do you get to Rogers's Island?"

"Jes' go over to Bailey's Harbor, an' keep on to the far end ofthe island, --you can row across to Rogerses' from there. "

"I don't think he has gone to Rogerses', young feller, " said oneof the men, "I heard him say he was goin' to try Big Duck, fust. "

"I guess we'll have to try them both, --thank you, all. "

We said good-bye, and left the hotel. As we walked down the streetagain Sprague said that we would do well to get away fromLanesport, soon. 

"If any more of these Bill Janvrins, or whatever his name was, come here with news about the burglars, we may find the constableafter us again. "

"It seems to me, " said Pete, "that you fellows are getting indeeper all the time. When you had lost your boat and your Captainit was bad enough. But now the Captain has lost the boat, and oneis in one place, and the other in another. "

"Some of us will have to go to Big Duck Island, and some of us toRogers's, " said Ed Mason. 

"By way of Bailey's Harbor?" asked Pete, with a sarcastic smile. 

"We won't have to go there, " said Jimmy; "at least, I don't thinkso. I noticed Rogers's Island on the chart. I don't believe we'dhave to land on Little Duck at all. "

We talked it over on our way back to the boat. In one or twoshops, where Sprague bought some food, we found out that thehorse-cars would take us to Squid Cove. Beyond that ran the car onwhich we had travelled yesterday. Then there was a walk of lessthan two miles to a point on the shore from which a row-boat couldtake us to Rogers's Island. It was a long way to go, but it wasnecessary in order to avoid Bailey's Harbor. Moreover, sinceSprague and Pete decided to take their boat to Big Duck Island, the trip to Rogers's must be made by land. 

"It will be safer for just one of us to go to Rogers's Island, "said Mr. Daddles, "and he can look around after the Captain andthe 'Hoppergrass. ' If he finds them, they can all sail over to BigDuck Island tonight or to-morrow morning and join us there. If hedoesn't see anything of them, he can come back here to Lanesport, and spend the night in the Eagle House. Then the rest of us willjoin him tomorrow afternoon, with or without Captain Bannister, asthe case may be. But we'll wait at Big Duck till noon. "

When we got back to the yacht, there was the Chief, peacefullyreading a last year's magazine. We routed him up, and cooked thedinner. While we were eating, the question arose: who was to go toRogers's Island?

"We'll draw lots, " said someone. We did so, --with slips of paper, and I was more than pleased when I saw that I had, --well, I wasgoing to say: won. I thought I had won at the time, and I wastickled at the idea of going on this expedition by myself. 

As we were separated from our boat, clothes, and all ourbelongings, Sprague fitted me out with some money, and I leftLanesport on the horse-car. At Squid Cove I looked anxiously tosee if the car-driver would remember me, and I was glad to see aboy, about my own age, driving the old horse. 

"Gran'father's gone over to Bailey's Harbor, " said he, "to see ifthe burglars have come back. Gee! I'd like to see a burglar, wouldn't you? Gee! they say these had black masks, an' six-shooters, an' bottles of chloro-chlory--of that stuff they putfolks to sleep with. An' brass knuckles. Say, did you ever see anybrass knuckles? I did. I know a feller that has got a pair. Hekeeps 'em in the hay in the barn, so's his father won't get ontohim. Gee! They put the burglars into the new jail, but they allgot out, an' no one knows how they did it. Nate Bradley come backon his milk-cart from Bailey's and he says he went into the jail, an' the cells was all locked up, so they must have clumb outthrough the bars somehow. Gee! No one can find old Mose Silloway, an' they think the burglars drownded him, outer revenge. Giddap!"

He leaned over the front of the car and hit the horse a loud slap, with the ends of his reins. 

"Gee! You bet Eb Flanders is madder than a settin' hen!"

"Who is he?" said I. Which was guile on my part. 

"He's constable. He caught the burglars, y'know, right in the face'n eyes of two policemen from Lanesport. An' when they got away, Eb pretty near bust his biler. He got his possy together again, an' he says he'll have 'em back if it takes a leg, an' when hegets 'em he'll set over 'em night an' day, with a shot-gun. Gee!"

He hit the horse another slap with the reins, and then turned togrin at me through a gap where four front teeth were missing. Hewas a jolly looking boy, with a round, red face like the risingmoon. 

"I wouldn't like to be them burglars, when Eb ketches hold of 'emagain, " he continued. "No, sir. Why, Eb arrested two fellers lastsummer for haulin' Levi Sanborn's lobster-pots, --he took an' tied'em back to back an' carried 'em over to Lanesport in his boat, an' turned 'em over to the police. One feller got six months inthe House of C'rrection. Gee! You're goin' to Bailey's, aint yer?"

"No, I'm going to Rogers's Island. "

"You be? Why, the excursion aint till tomorrow!"

I said "What excursion?" before I thought. 

"Why, the Comp'ny. Aint you heard 'bout the Comp'ny? Gran'father'sgoin'. Everbody's goin'. Don't you live in Lanesport?"

"No, I don't know anything about it. What is it, --a picnic? Howmany people live there, --on Rogers's Island?"

"Didn't no one live there--till 'bout a month ago. Then those twogen'lemen came, --the P'fessor an' Mr. Snider. The house had beenempty for a year an' a half, --ever since old man Rogers died. Hewas the last of the fam'ly, an' his folks have owned the islandan' lived in the house ever since the first one of 'em come overin the 'Mayflower' or with Christopher C'lumbus, or somebody. WhenGran'father was a boy there was twenty-seven of 'em livin' there, an' nineteen of 'em was children. Gee! there must have been amob, --all in one house! But they've been dyin' off, or movin' awayor somethin', an' when old man Rogers died there wasn't no one forhim to leave the prop'ty to but a hospittle or somethin'. An' thehospittle aint never come to live there, or nothin', an' it'sstayed empty. I went over there once last summer, an' peeked intothe winders. . .. But Mr. Snider an' the P'fessor are there now, --they hired the whole island to 'stablish the Comp'ny on. "

He stopped the car for some passengers, --two women and two littlegirls who had been picking flowers beside the road. One of thewomen commenced to ask questions and I did not get much chance totalk with him again until we came to the end of the line, at thecauseway leading to Bailey's Harbor. 

I decided not to linger at this point, but merely stopped to askthe boy if I would be able to get a boat to row to Rogers'sIsland. 

"You won't want one, " said he, "there's a bridge. You'll find itall dry walkin'. "

I learned what this meant, when, after about half an hour's walk, I came to a turn in the road, and a post with a metal sign:"Rogers's I. --1/2m. " Here was another causeway across a marsh, notas well kept, nor as much used, as that from Bailey's Harbor, butquite passable. The island was in plain sight at the end of theroad, --a rocky hummock of land, with two patches of trees. At theedge of one of these groups of trees I could see a chimney and onecorner of a house. A big, pink poster, stuck up on the sign-post, had caught my eye. It was like several others which I rememberedhaving seen on trees and fences as I came along the road. Now, forthe first time, I stopped to read one of them. This is what itsaid:

 GOLD FROM THE VASTY DEEP OLD OCEAN GIVES UP HIS WEALTH AT LAST SUCCUMBS TO THE MODERN WIZARD EASE AND COMFORT PLACED WITHIN THE REACH OF ALL BY THE METROPOLITAN MARINE GOLD COMPANY COME TO THE GRAND DEMONSTRATIONS AT THE COMPANY'S PLANT, ROGERS'S ISLAND TWO EXCURSIONS--MORNING & AFTERNOON

 JULY 30

I read that poster, and wondered what it was all about. July30th, --that was to-morrow. Then I remembered what the boy on thehorse-car had said about "the Company" and the excursion. This wasthe thing he had meant. Well, it was nothing to me, --I had onlyto find out if Captain Bannister and the "Hoppergrass" were there, and if not, to go back to Lanesport. "Gold from the vasty deep, "--I wondered what that was. The buried treasure on Fishback Island, --had it anything to do with that?

Half way across the causeway was a wooden bridge, painted white. It spanned a narrow stream, not much more than a creek, runningthrough the marsh. This was the only water which divided Rogers'sIsland from the mainland. 

On the railing of the bridge was tacked another pink poster. Thisone said:

 RICHES FROM NEPTUNE'S HOARD TREASURE FROM THE BOUNDLESS MAIN WHY TOIL AND SLAVE ALL YOUR LIVES WITH THE MEANS FOR LUXURY AT YOUR DOORS? GRAND EXCURSIONS TO ROGERS'S ISLAND, JULY 30. STEAMER "MAY QUEEN" LEAVES LANESPORT AT 8. 30 A. M. , AND 2 P. M. THE METROPOLITAN MARINE GOLD COMPANY IS ENDORSED BY THE LEADING FINANCIERS AND SCIENTISTS OF THE WORLD AND BY HON. J. HARVEY BOWDITCH & DEACON ENOCH CHICK LANESPORT

There were some hand-bills blowing around on the bridge, and Ipicked up one or two of them. They were like the posters, --aboutthe Metropolitan Marine Gold Company, and the excursions toRogers's Island. At the end of the causeway, where the road wentup a little grade, there was a big sign, painted on white cloth, and fixed to some boards:

THE METROPOLITAN MARINE GOLD COMPANY (Limited)

The road wound up the slope, and I followed it and turned thecorner. There was a great house, three stories high and as squareas a child's block. If it had ever been painted, the paint hadworn off, and the wood was almost black. For a hundred years ormore the wind and rain and snow had beaten against it, --stormsfrom the ocean, storms from the land, winds from all quarters, forexcept at one corner it was unprotected by trees. It stood on highground, and faced the open water of the bay. Grass had grown rankall around, and there was no sign of anybody either indoors orout. There was an enormous barn behind the house, as well aswoodsheds, and hen-houses. 

I stood still for a few moments, and then walked up the weed-grownpath, and hammered on the front door with the brass knocker. Theknocking echoed all over the house, and the door swung slowlyopen. It was my knocks which had opened it, however, --there wasno one inside, so far as I could see. I looked into an empty hall, dusty and neglected. A broad staircase led upstairs, but the onlything in the hall was a pile of pink hand-bills lying on thefloor. I thumped again with my knuckles on one of the panels ofthe door, and called out: "Anybody here?" There was no answer, andafter hesitating a moment I decided to try the rear of the house. 

The driveway at the side was in the same neglected condition asthe front path. The only thing about the place which looked at allnew was a sort of wooden stand, built out of boards and packingboxes. This was decorated with flags and colored bunting, as iffor a band-concert. It stood at one side of the driveway in whathad once been a little garden. The barn and other buildings at therear were shabby and ill-kept. 

I pounded at a side-door, and at a door in the back, but there wasno answer at either. Then I began to wonder what to do. EvidentlyCaptain Bannister was not here, but why had he said he was comingto such a place? What had made him think he would find the"Hoppergrass" here? Where were the men about whom the boy on thehorse-car had told me?

I strolled to the front of the house again, crossed the road, andlooked down the hill toward the bay. There was a little wharf atthe foot of the hill, and at the end of it was another of thewhite cloth signs. It faced out over the water, so I could notread what it said. Some planks, boards, and shavings lay about, asif someone had been working there recently. I thought I would godown and investigate. 

As I still had on rubber-soled shoes, I suppose I walkednoiselessly. I had not stepped upon the woodwork before I noticeda trap-door near the end of the wharf. I walked over to it andlooked down. 

It was rather dark below, but I could make out a platform about afoot above the water. Kneeling on this were two men, with alantern beside them. They were both in their shirt-sleeves, andthey seemed to be working over a little, square box. Four or fiveother boxes like it were lying on the platform in front of them. 

I did not know exactly how to begin, but at last I gave a kind ofcough, and said: "Can you tell me--"

But I got no farther than that. Both men looked up as if theirheads had been pulled back on wires. One of them sprang to theladder and came up it like a flash. 

"Hullo!" he said, as soon as he reached the top; "who are you, andwhat do you want?"

He was a small man, with a clean-shaven face, --a very pale face itwas, too. His hat was off, and I noticed that his hair was rathershort. As for his age, I could not have told about that, --it mighthave been twenty-five or fifty, or any age between. He was quickin his movements, but his manner of speaking was pleasant enough. 

"I'm looking for a boat, " I said; "someone told me that it washere, --this is Rogers's Island, isn't it?"

"This is Rogers's Island, all right, " he answered, --"what kind ofa boat is it you are looking for?"

"She's a white cat-boat, --the 'Hoppergrass', --or the 'Hannah J. Pettingell', --it's more likely that's her name. "

He looked at me inquiringly with his quick little eyes. The otherman came up through the trap-door. He had put on his coat, --along, black, "swallow-tail" coat. He was tall and thin, anddressed all in black, with a white neck-tie. His hair was sandy, and he had reddish side-whiskers, --the kind called "side-boards. "I never saw a man with such a solemn face, --nor one with so long anose. But he smiled as he walked over to me, a kind of painfulsmile as if he had the face-ache. He leaned over, took one of myhands, and held it in his damp grasp, while he patted me on theshoulder with his other hand. 

"Well, my little man, " he said, "what is your name, and what can Ido for you?"

I did not like being called "my little man, " and I tried to drophis clammy hand. But he held mine still, and smiled his tooth-achysmile. 

"What is it we can do for you?" he repeated. He had a smooth voicethat somehow made me feel as if I was having warm butter pouredover me. 

"I'm looking for a boat, " I said, trying again to snatch away myhand. 

"A boat?" he queried, in mild surprise, "and what is your name, --my little man?"

I started to tell him, and then it struck me, that we had givenour real names to the constable at Bailey's Harbor, and that Imight get into trouble if I told mine again, here. I tried tothink of another name to give, but as I hadn't made up one inadvance, it seemed to stick. Of course, I had often read ofvarious kinds of criminals and desperadoes who went under falsenames, and also of people who were no more criminals than we, whohad to give names other than their own. There were spies in war-time, for instance. These people in books all seemed to do iteasily enough, and so I could have done, if I had had one ready. As it was I stammered over it. 

"Sam-er-er-Jim-er-James B-B-Brown, " I said at last. 

"Sam Jim James Brown!" he said, in his buttery tones, "well, SamJim James Brown, what is it you want here?"

I told him again about the boat, and how they told us at Lanesportthat Captain Bannister was coming to Rogers's Island to look forher. 

"What kind of a boat is it?" said the other man. I had succeededat last in getting the tall man to let go of my hand, and I backeda little away from him. I described the "Hoppergrass" as well as Icould, and told about the Captain's notion for changing the name. 

"A white cat-boat, hey?" said the little man, "and CaptainBannister, --oh, yes! of Lanesport? Captain Bannister ofLanesport?"

"No, he comes--"

"No? Are you sure? He's been in Lanesport lately, hasn't he?"

"Oh, yes. That's where he lost the 'Hoppergrass. '"

"That's the man!" said he, "that's the man. Now, I tell you what. He isn't here now, but I expect he will be here tomorrow. You'veheard about the excursion, of course?"

"Yes, --I read the hand-bills. "

"Well, I understand he is coming here tomorrow. Now, have you gotto go back to Lanesport tonight?"

"Just a second, --excuse me just a second, Professor, " put in thetall man, "I'd like a word with you just for a second. You'llexcuse me, young man, if I confer with the Professor for a second. An important matter of business, you know. "

He drew the Professor, as he called him, some little distance upthe wharf, where they whispered together for three or fourminutes. The tall man kept his hand on the Professor's shoulderand seemed very earnest in what he was saying. 

Then they came back to me. 

"Were you going back to Lanesport tonight?" asked the Professor. 

"Yes, " I replied, "if I didn't find Captain Bannister. "

"I don't believe you can now, " said he, looking at his watch. "It's half past four, and the last car leaves the Cove at four. Besides, your surest way to find this Captain Bannister is to stayright here. He'll be here tomorrow, sure. Then you can go back onthe steamboat at noon, if you want to. We'll fix you up fortonight, and make you comfortable. What do you say?"

There didn't seem to be any way out of it. If it had been the tallman alone I would have walked all the way back to Lanesport ratherthan stay. I never saw anyone whom I disliked so much, from thevery first instant. But the Professor seemed perfectlystraightforward. The cars had stopped, and I was left here onRogers's Island, and might as well make the best of it. Besides ifCaptain Bannister were coming in the morning it was foolish tolose this chance of finding him. 

I decided to stay, and told them that I would do so. 

CHAPTER IX

THE GOLD COMPANY

Two minutes later I had begun to regret my decision, and to wonderif it was a mistake to stay on the island. I reflected that I wasalone, with two strangers. Yet they were posting advertisements, and asking everybody in Lanesport to come to the island tomorrow. They would hardly do that if there was anything shady about them. From the very first, I had no fault to find with the Professor. The trouble with the other man was that he seemed to be so very, very GOOD. 

"Now, James, " said he, "we'll leave the Professor to finish somework here, while you and I go up to the house. . .. Wonderful man, the Professor!" he continued, after the latter had vanished downthe trap-door, and we had started up the hill, --"wonderful man!How future generations will bless his name! That is it, --that isall that induced me to become connected with this greatenterprise, --the blessedness of it! I would never have anythingto do with any work unless it was for the good of my fellowman. Iasked the Professor if his work was going to be for the benefit ofALL mankind. He told me that it was. Then I consented to come inwith him. He has a marvellous brain. "

"What is he professor of?"

"Transcendental chemistry . .. He has studied in all the leadinguniversities of Europe. ALL of them. The name of Von Biebersteinwill be blessed by generations yet unborn. And how devoutly happyam I that the name of Snider will come in for some of thoseblessings! It will be associated with his in this great work, --this GOOD work!"

"Is that his name?"

"Professor Von Bieberstein. Yes. And mine is Snider. . .. James, Ihope you are a good boy. "

I said nothing, but if to be a good boy would turn me intoanything like Mr. Snider when I grew up, I hoped I was the worstkind of boy. 

"You don't use tobacco, I hope, James?"

"No. "

"Don't ever do it. It leads to lying. And drinking. I have knownthe greatest criminals and blacklegs in the city of New York, murderers, and thieves, and men like that, --and they all becamewhat they were through using tobacco. All of them. "

We had arrived at the house, and Mr. Snider led the way around tothe side-door. 

"Here is the platform, you see, James, " said he, pointing to theband-stand, "all ready for the gathering tomorrow. Yes. It will bea great occasion. Historic. Nothing that this ancient house hasever seen could match it. And yet I suppose that many of theworld's great discoveries were made in places humble and obscurelike this. . .. Suppose we split a little wood, James, and bringsome water from the well. Then we can have supper ready, when theProfessor comes back from his work. He is very absent-minded. Very. His mind is engaged on these problems all day. He would notremember to eat unless I reminded him of it. I have to take careof him, --his life is very precious to the world, James!"

We went to a shed where there was a little kindling wood in onecorner. Mr. Snider handed me a hatchet, and I split some wood, while he stood near and talked to me about the importance of beinggood and virtuous. 

"It's the way to be happy, James, and successful, and RICH. Didyou ever hear of Abraham P. Fillmore, James?"

"Oh, yes. Lots of times. " "Worth ninety million dollars, James!Think of it! Ninety million dollars!" Mr. Snider licked his lips. "The richest man in the world, today. Some say that John Sandersonis richer, --but it isn't true. No; it isn't true. The last time Isaw A. P. Fillmore, I said to him: 'Brother Fillmore, ' I said, 'how do you account for it? How did you do it? How did you GETit?' And he said: 'Caleb, ' he said, 'I'll tell you. It was byfollowing the Golden Rule. ' That's all there is to it, James, --just by being GOOD. Isn't that simple, James? Oh! why can't we alldo that!"

I looked at Mr. Snider in astonishment. Here was a man who knewthe famous millionaire, A. P. Fillmore, well enough to call him"Brother Fillmore, " and to be called "Caleb" in return by him. Ihad seen pictures of Fillmore in the newspapers ever since I couldremember, --people were always talking about him. "You must think Iam as rich as A. P. Fillmore!"--how many times I had heard peoplesay that! And Mr. Snider, who was on such friendly terms with him, was standing here in a woodshed, talking with me! I wondered why Ihad never heard of Mr. Snider before. 

Presently we went in the house, after we had the wood and a pailof water. The house was almost empty of furniture, and it waspretty dismal. The kitchen was the only room they useddownstairs, --it contained a cook-stove, two tables, a couple ofbroken-down chairs, and some boxes set on end, for seats. An old-fashioned kitchen clock, its hands broken off, stood on a shelf, silent. But a handsome little glass and gold clock was tickingaway in front of it. 

The Professor joined us while we were kindling a fire in thestove. He did not seem at all neglectful of his food, he inquiredhow soon supper would be ready, and suggested that we have somesausages in addition to what Mr. Snider was preparing to cook. They sent me out to the shed for some more wood, and again to thewell for another pail of water, so that we could wash our handsand faces at the sink. 

We ate our supper in the kitchen, and as soon as the Professorfinished eating he lighted a long cigar. Mr. Snider did not seemto notice this, though it made me wonder why he did not tell hisfriend how many scoundrels he had known who had come to theirdownfall through using tobacco. When the cigar was nearly gone, the Professor said he would wash the dishes, if I would help himwipe them. I agreed, and we began the work. Mr. Snider presentlystarted to talk to me once more about being good. He did not getvery far, however, before the Professor turned to him and said:

"Oh, shut up!"

Mr. Snider raised his eyebrows, smiled his hideous smile, andrelapsed into silence. After a minute or two he went outside, andwalked slowly up and down the driveway, with his hands behind hisback. When the dishes were finished, the Professor lighted anothercigar, sat down at a table, and began to write and figure on apiece of paper. 

This wasn't very amusing to me, so I looked about to see if Icould find something to do. In a passage leading from the kitchento another room, I found a shelf which held some empty medicinebottles, and four or five dusty books. I took the books down, oneafter the other. There was "The Life of Rev. Thomas Miltimore, "--Iput that back on the shelf. There was "Leading Men of RockinghamCounty, "--I put that back. Then there was a book of hymns, andFoxe's "Book of Martyrs. " I was about to take the latter to thekitchen with me, and curdle my blood again with its ghastlypictures, when I found another book under an old, yellownewspaper. It was "The Rifle Rangers; or Adventures in SouthernMexico by Captain Mayne Reid. " The frontispiece, which wasprotected by a torn and stained leaf of tissue paper, showed asoldier in a tropical forest, being startled by a skeleton whichhad apparently risen out of the ground. On the title-page someonehad written in pencil "A mity Good Book. " Underneath, in anotherhandwriting, were the words, "you Bett!" This seemed wellrecommended, --even if the name of the author hadn't been a strongrecommendation in itself. A faded legend on a fly-leaf showed thatthe book had been "Presented to Edward Rogers, on his FourteenthBirthday, Jan'y 21st, 1852, By his Uncle Daniel. "

I took that book back to the kitchen. The Professor had a lampburning on the table beside him, and I sat down in its light. In afew seconds I was following the adventures of the hero, --a herowhose foot, it seemed "had pressed the summits of the Andes, andclimbed the Cordilleras of the Sierra Madre. " He had "steamed itdown the Mississippi, and sculled it up the Orinoco. "

The Orinoco! That magic river with the musical name! I knew ittoo, and could see it in my mind's eye as I read. The branches ofthe trees met across the stream, --parrots screamed, monkeyschattered, and scampered from one tree to another. The kitchen, the Professor, vanished from my sight. I was unconscious of thehard, uncomfortable chair in which I sat, and of the dim, sputtering light of the badly trimmed lamp. 

What else had he done? He told you about his past adventures, before he began upon the new one. "I had hunted buffaloes with thePawnees of the Platte, and ostriches upon the Pampas of the Plata;I had eaten raw meat with the trappers of the Rocky Mountains, androast monkey among the Mosquito Indians. " Now, it seemed, he wasoff for the war in Mexico, --and I could come along with him, if Iliked. 

I did like, and it was two hours later when I suddenly heard anoily voice saying: "Why, it's half past nine, --James, you're notgoing to read all night, are you?" Then I came back to Rogers'sIsland with a bump, and saw the obnoxious face of Mr. Sniderlooking down at me. The Professor had left the room, though I hadnot noticed when he went. 

"What is that book, James? Something improving, I trust?"

"It's a fine book, " said I. 

He took it and looked it over, making a clicking sound ofdisapproval with his tongue. 

"How much better it would be, " he observed, "to read some book ofuseful information, or something with a MORAL! Such a book as thisTEACHES you nothing. Couldn't you find anything better?"

I was sorry that the Professor wasn't there, to tell him to shutup. I had no patience to stay and hear a book of brave adventuredecried by this sanctimonious looking hum-bug, --whose mouthwatered when he talked about old Fillmore and his ninety milliondollars. Fillmore, so everybody said, was so stingy that he cuthis own hair, and went around looking like a fright, rather thanpay a barber. Worse than that, he was hated like fury by all thepeople who worked for him because he screwed their wages down tothe lowest possible figure. But Mr. Snider thought him a greatman, and boasted to me of knowing him within ten minutes of thetime we met. 

I told Mr. Snider that I was ready to go to bed, if he would showme where I was to sleep. He led me upstairs, past two or threerooms, to one in the rear. The floors were all bare, but the roomshad some furniture, --four-post beds, wash-stands, and one or twohair-cloth chairs. The bed in my room had a mattress and blankets, but no other bed-clothes. Mr. Snider bade me good-night, tried toshake hands with me--an attempt in which I foiled him--and softlydeparted down stairs. 

After I was in bed I could hear the murmur of his voice below, ashe talked with the Professor. Just as I was dropping off to sleepthe voices grew suddenly louder for a moment or two, as if a doorhad opened somewhere. 

"Maybe, " I heard the Professor say, "but they'd never send a kidlike that. "

Mr. Snider answered something, --I could not distinguish the words. 

"Oh, rats!" said the Professor, "what could he have seen?"

Again Mr. Snider murmured. 

"Oh, sure, sure, " the Professor's voice came again, "I was forkeeping him, from the first. But just to be perfectly safe. Wewant to keep him till the first crowd has gone, anyway, --and tillthe second one has gone, if you say so. I don't care. "

Another mutter from Snider; the Professor laughed and spoke again:

"It won't make a bit of difference. Bowditch has got all thosehayseeds hypnotised. That's where you come in, --with your pinkwhiskers. . .. Say, that door's open!"

There was a sound of footsteps, and the soft closing of a door. Presently another door closed, outside, and I heard the two mencome upstairs. I jumped out of bed, and locked the door of myroom. It was fairly plain to me that I was in the house with acouple of swindlers, of some kind or other, and though I didn'tbelieve they would harm me, there was no need to take unnecessarychances. 

They went into one of the front rooms. I heard four thumps, oneafter the other, as they took off their shoes, and threw them onthe floor, so I judged they were going to bed. As I lay there, listening for them to begin to snore, I fell asleep myself. 

I waked, a little at a time, in a room which was in broaddaylight, with the sun shining through one window. For a moment Icould not remember where I was, --at home, on the "Hoppergrass, " inthe jail at Bailey's Harbor, or on the other yacht. Then Irecalled Rogers's Island, Mr. Snider and the Professor. I got upand listened for them, and looked out of the window, but I neitherheard nor saw anybody. I dressed, unlocked the door, and tried toopen it. But I could not do so, --a bolt had been shot, or a buttonturned, and the door was locked outside. While I was rattling andshaking at it I heard Mr. Snider in the passage. 

"Dear me!" he said, "what's the matter? Is that you, James? Justwait a moment. "

I heard a fumbling, and my door came open. 

"Dear me!" said he again, "this bolt had slipped over, and lockedthe door. It does that sometimes. An old house, you know, all outof repair. You must have thought we were trying to keep youinside. It DID look that way. "

What a clumsy liar he was! I said nothing at all to him, buthurried down stairs as fast as I could without running. I feltmuch safer with the Professor, --perhaps he was as big a rascal asthe other, --but he wasn't as slimy in his manner. 

It was half past seven, and they had eaten their breakfast. Theyhad saved some for me, and I ate it, keeping an eye out forSnider. He did not reappear, however, and after I had finishedeating, I got "The Rifle Rangers" and went outside with it toread, and wait for the people who were coming on the steamboat. Ifelt more comfortable outdoors than in. With Mr. Snider creepingfrom one room to another I never knew what might happen, nor howhe might try to cage me up. Outside, he wouldn't be able to touchme, if I had any kind of a start. 

I had thought it over while I was eating breakfast. There was somesort of hocus-pocus going on, connected with this excursion andthe gold company. Anybody could see that. Whether they reallyexpected Captain Bannister to come on the steamboat, or whetherthat was all a lie to make me stay, I could not tell. CaptainBannister had said, according to the men at the Eagle House, thathe was coming to Rogers's Island, so it might be that theProfessor's story was true. On the other hand, it might have beenmade up out of whole cloth in order to keep me there over night. But why should they want to do that? They thought I had seensomething, --the Professor had asked: "What could he have seen?" Ihadn't seen anything, --except that they were working over someboxes on the platform beneath the wharf. They had both acted likeboys caught in the jam closet. 

I sat on the front porch, and thought it over, and read, and thenthought it over again, until the smoke of the steamboat was insight. This must have been about half past nine. The Professor andMr. Snider had been out in the barn most of the time, or bringingchairs and putting them up on the platform in the side yard. Whenthe smoke of the steamboat appeared they both came around to thefront of the house. The Professor shook hands with me, and saidgoodbye. He had to go to Lanesport, he said, on importantbusiness, and he must start now. He was going by the road. 

"Of course, " said he, "I wish I could stay for the excursion, butMr. Snider will have to receive them, and explain the works. "

"And James, " added Snider, "will come around to the side and helpme with the chairs, --won't you, James? It will only take amoment. "

The Professor vanished around the corner of the house, as weturned into the drive. 

"I hope you understand, James, " said Mr. Snider, "that any--er--precautions we have taken since you came amongst us, were onlysuch as were perfectly necessary under the circumstances. We areguarding here, of course, a valuable scientific discovery, --a VERYvaluable discovery. There are people who would give thousands ofdollars, and go to ANY lengths to get our secret away from us. Anylengths. We are determined that these men--these wicked men, Iregret to say--shall not steal from the Professor the fruit ofhis brain. The workings of this--er--this precious secret will bedisplayed today, when the good folk arrive from Lanesport. We havethe recommendation, as you must have seen, of two of the mostrespectable men in the town, --their names alone are proof of thehigh moral plane on which our Company is conducted. I say this toyou because you do not know me, nor the Professor, and you areyoung, and thoughtless, and might jump to wrong conclusions. Thatwould pain me very much, James. Very much. You will see, after thegood folk arrive, and after you have heard Mr. Bowditch and DeaconChick, that everything is as open as the day. "

In spite of Mr. Snider's manner, in spite of his oily voice, I wasnearer believing in him then, than at any time while I was on theisland. After all, I had heard of inventions which must be keptsecret. Moreover, there may have seemed something suspicious aboutthe way in which I had come. I had bungled in giving that falsename, and made them think that I was simply prying into theiraffairs. All that I wished now was to see if Captain Bannisterwere on the steamboat, or if I could get news of him or the"Hoppergrass, " and I told this to Mr. Snider. 

"Very well, then, " said he, "it will be all right, now we have aclear understanding. And I would like you to keep near me whilethe people are here. You may be able to help, and thereby you canwork off some of your debt to us for the two meals you have had atour expense. Though we would not charge you much for them, --aboutfifty cents for the supper, and thirty-five--or forty--for thebreakfast, I think. Now, we will go down to the wharf. "

The steamboat was less than quarter of a mile distant. It gavethree long, shrill toots of its whistle, and came straight for us. It was a small boat, covered with flags and streamers. A brassband, in red coats, sat in the bow playing "Sweet Marie. " As theboat came nearer I was surprised to see how few people, aside fromthe band, were on it. I had expected to see a big crowd, --a picnicgathering. Instead, there were only about two dozen people. Mostof them were men, but a few had brought their wives--nice lookingold ladies--with them. 

Mr. Snider stood up on a high place, took off his black felt hat, with a great flourish, and put on his ghastly smile. "Welcome!" heshouted, "welcome to Rogers's Island!"

There was a big man with a frock coat and top hat standing nearthe band. He must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, andall his movements were slow and majestic. He took off his hat, faced toward the people who were sitting about the deck on camp-stools, and shouted in a deep but tremendous voice:

"Three cheers for Brother Snider!"

Then, counting "One, two, three!" and waving his tall hat in slowcircles, he gave the three cheers all by himself. No one elseopened his mouth. 

The steamboat came alongside the wharf, was made fast, and a gang-plank run out. The big man came ashore, together with another whohad a gray beard, --Deacon Chick, as I found out later. They shookhands with Mr. Snider very warmly, and introduced him to some ofthe other people as they stepped off the gang-plank. 

"The Professor not here!" I heard the big man say; "that's a greatdisappointment!"

Then they all started up the wharf toward the house. The men ofthe band had scrambled ashore, and they headed the procession, --still playing "Sweet Marie" with loud blasts. Then came Mr. Snider, accompanied by the big man (he was the Hon. J. HarveyBowditch) and by Deacon Chick. Behind him were the people fromLanesport, two by two, some of them carrying baskets, and most ofthem in their Sunday clothes. At the end were some men from thesteamboat with armfuls of camp-stools. 

Captain Bannister was not there. I had watched all the men as theycame ashore, and I asked one of the crew of the "May Queen" abouthim. He had never heard of such a man, he said. So I decided to goup to the house, hear what was going to happen, and then go backto Lanesport on the steamboat. It would leave, so the man told me, at twelve o'clock sharp, and get to Lanesport about one. I wouldbe in time to meet Ed and Jimmy, Mr. Daddles and the rest, andfind out if they had had better luck at Big Duck Island. 

Mr. Snider had a great amount of trouble in getting the peopleplaced as he wished them. The band was in one corner of the gardenplaying "Razzle Dazzle" in very lively fashion. This helped makethe occasion gay, but it also made it hard for anyone to hear whatwas being said. Mr. Snider's smooth remarks, as he teetered about, the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch's stentorian bellowings, and DeaconChick's confidential whispers were all drowned out by the music. Some of the men wanted to inspect the barn, and the premisesgenerally, and one or two of the women had shown a desire to lookinto the kitchen. They had to be headed off by Mr. Snider, whogave them all a smile, a clammy hand-shake, and a patting on theshoulder, as he rounded them up on the camp-stools near theplatform. Then he and Mr. Bowditch and the Deacon mounted thestand. There was a table with a pitcher of water and a glass, andMr. Snider took his place behind it. 

But when he smiled, and opened his mouth to speak, the band seizedupon that moment to burst into music again. Their choice this tunewas "Daisy Bell, "--

 "Daisy! Daisy! Give me my answer true!"

they blared forth, with their full strength. Mr. Snider turnedtoward them and tried to maintain his smile, while the Hon. Mr. Bowditch, and Deacon Chick waved their hands furiously at theleader. 

The leader, however, was quite unconscious of their efforts, ashis back was turned toward them. He was a short, very stout man, stuffed into a scarlet coat. He stood up to lead, and instead ofwaving a wand, played a cornet. This he moved about in the air, swaying his head and the upper part of his body in time with themusic. His face was deep red, and it seemed as if he might burstif it were not for blowing into the cornet. The tune went on, defiantly, in spite of all the hand-wavings from Bowditch andChick. 

Finally, a trombone player caught sight of their gestures, and heattracted the leader's attention to the fact that something waswrong by giving him a prod in the stomach with the slide of histrombone. The leader hesitated, stopped, and then faced about tothe speakers' stand. Some of the band paused, while others keptright on with "Daisy Bell. "

Mr. Snider smiled, bowed, and I suppose, with a desire to makehimself agreeable, thrust out his hands and applauded. At anyrate, the band-master mistook the meaning of it, for he silencedthose who were still playing, leaned forward to say something tothem all, waved his cornet, and started them once more on "RazzleDazzle. " He had thought that Mr. Snider preferred that to "DaisyBell, " and wanted it repeated. Then they had to begin the hand-wavings and gesticulations all over again. Nothing could stop themthis time until Deacon Chick descended from the stand, went overto the band-master, tapped him on the shoulder, and whisperedexcitedly in his ear. At last they got them all quieted down, except one tremendous man who sat on two stools, playing anenormous bass-horn. For quite two minutes after the others hadceased he went on with his: "Um-pah! Um-pah! Um-pah!"

"The boys don't get a chance like this more'n once a year, " said aman who was standing beside me, "and you bet they are going togive J. Harvey his money's worth!"

He was a sharp-faced man, a farmer evidently, not more thanthirty-five years old. He had bright black eyes, which he keptfixed constantly on Mr. Bowditch and Mr. Snider. 

Finally, Mr. Snider got his chance to speak. He said he would callthem all "Friends" as that suited them better than "Ladies andGentlemen. " He told how sorry he was because the Professor hadbeen called away by the illness of a relative. Then he told what agreat inventor the Professor was, and how he was even moreremarkable for doing good. For this invention was one which woulddo good to so many people. 

This led Mr. Snider up to his favorite subject, and he began tospeak on doing good and being good. The black-eyed man beside mebegan to utter little groans. 

"I knew I was in for J. Harvey Bowditch, " he said under hisbreath, "and I thought that was enough punishment for one day. "

At last Mr. Snider got back to the gold company. "From theearliest times, my friends, scientists have known of the existenceof gold in sea-water. Together with other metals, --silver, platinum, and so on, there is a great amount of gold in sea-water. It is in tiny particles, not so big as the point of a needle. There it is, --but how shall it be got together? How shall it beextracted from the water? Aristotle tried to discover a method. Hefailed. Diogenes Laertius tried. He failed. Sir Isaac Newton, Benjamin Franklin, --they tried. And THEY failed. Professor VonBieberstein has succeeded. And YOU are to see this methoddemonstrated today, and YOU, my friends, are to benefit by thisdiscovery. "

Then he talked at some length about the big "plant" which theyexpected to build, and how they would "treat" seventy millions (orbillions, I forget which) of gallons of water daily. In one yearfrom that date, he predicted, IF the plan received support, thegold taken every month from Broad Bay would be worth three hundredthousand dollars. Mr. Snider licked his lips. "Think of that, friends, --three hundred thousand dollars a month!" Shares in thisCompany were on sale for five dollars each. They would be placedon sale after the demonstration. He now had the pleasure and thehonor to introduce to them one who needed no introduction to anaudience from Lanesport, --the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch. 

Mr. Bowditch came forward with majestic tread. He thrust his righthand into the lapel of his coat, and commenced, in the deepbooming tones of a bass-drum. 

"My friends, " he said, "I shall detain you here for just onemoment. "

"The poet Byron, " he continued, "has written in words which mustbe forever immortal, of the deep and dark blue ocean. He said, --"

Mr. Bowditch talked for three quarters of an hour. That was hisidea of "just one moment. " Several people went sound asleep, oneman pitched forward out of his chair while asleep, and some ofthose in the back began to get up and tip-toe away. At last Mr. Snider got him to stop--by pulling at his coat-tails--and theybegan to hand around the gold specimens. 

That woke them up! Deacon Chick came down from the stand with aneat little box, and walked around among the people, showing offthe gold. There were six nice, fat little nuggets--smooth, andyellow, --and delightful to handle. Each was about as big as apostage-stamp, and about half an inch thick. This was the goldwhich the Professor and Mr. Snider had extracted from the water, right there at Rogers's Island, by their secret, chemical process. It had been in tiny particles then, like dust, but they had sentit somewhere, and had it made into these nuggets, --plump andpleasing! They had a letter from someone in the Treasury to provethat it was solid and pure, and of the very best quality. No oneneeded the letter. The nuggets spoke for themselves, --they were soheavy! I held two of them, one in each hand, and weighed them. Weall held one or two of them, and felt of them, and got a greatdeal of pleasure out of them. 

The people from Lanesport gathered around Deacon Chick, the menlooked at the gold nuggets, weighed them, and smiled at eachother. 

"Looks like the real stuff, --hey?"

"Looks like it to ME, all right!"

Everybody was interested, brightened up, happy and good-natured. They smiled and joked over the gold. Only one man seemed at alltroubled in his mind. 

"There's jus' one thing, " I heard him say to two other men, "there's jus' one thing that kinder worries me. If we go ahead andperdoose gold at this rate, we're goin' to flood the market!Yessir! Gold will get so common that the price of everything willgo sky-high, an' that'll raise old Ned!"

The other two looked pretty serious at this, and they started todiscuss it. One of them thought they had better hold back most ofthe gold, "and only spring it on people a little at a tune. "

Suddenly Mr. Snider shouted: "Now, friends, if you please, we willgo down to the wharf for the demonstration!"

CHAPTER X

MR. SNIDER

It was hard to get them started--they were clustered so thickaround the Deacon and his little box, all talking and laughing anddiscussing. Everyone was awake now, and animated, --if those sixlittle yellow lumps of gold had appeared sooner, even the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch couldn't have put the people to sleep. 

By sending the Deacon and the gold nuggets ahead, the processionwas formed again for the wharf. The band stayed in the yard, playing tune after tune, and enjoying themselves immensely. 

The "May Queen" was lying at one side of the wharf, so Mr. Snider, the Deacon, and Mr. Bowditch went to the end, while the peoplegathered around them in a semi-circle. Mr. Snider had a small tinbox, which might once have held a pound of crackers. It waspunched full of tiny holes. Two wires were soldered on one side ofthe box, and he connected these by long coils of fine wire withthe jars of an electric battery. A little tin tube had beenfastened to the bottom of the box so that it stood upright. Intothis Mr. Snider poured some powder which he took from two littlevials, --first he put in some white powder, and then some of a darkblue color. He sealed up the top of the tube with beeswax and thenlet everyone look into the box and see that, except for the littlesealed tube, it was absolutely empty. 

Then he put on the cover, wound a cord completely around it, gotthe wires clear, and with the greatest care lowered the box overthe end of the wharf. He kept on lowering until the box must havebeen eight or nine feet below the surface. Then he stood waiting, with the most solemn expression upon his face. Mr. Bowditch stoodbeside him, holding a watch, and counting the minutes. Every nowand then he would say, like the tolling of a great bell: "Oneminute gone! . .. Two minutes gone! . .. Three minutes gone! . .. "

The people had watched the preparations with the utmost attention. Not a movement made by Mr. Snider escaped them. Now they all stoodin profound silence. Some of the men had taken out their watchesand were keeping count of the time. After "Eight minutes gone!"had tolled forth from the big man, he began counting the seconds:"And ten seconds! . .. Fifteen! Twenty! . .. Thirty! . .. Thirty-five! . .. Six! Seven! Eight!"

At eight minutes and thirty-eight seconds Mr. Snider began to pullup the box. The excitement was intense. Men from the "May Queen"had joined the group, --everyone was leaning forward to watch, withfaces set and eager. You could hear the people breathe, --a sort ofmiracle was being performed, gold was being made right beforetheir eyes!

The box came to the top and Mr. Snider had it at last in hishands. He disconnected the wires of the battery, unwound the cordwhich tied the box, and lifted the cover. One woman drew in herbreath so quickly that she almost sobbed, and then choked, and hadto be slapped on the back. Everybody crowded around, even closerthan before, as Mr. Snider exhibited the box. There was a littlemud and gravel inside and this they rinsed away very carefullywith a cup and basin of water. Sticking to the tin tube were twoor three dozen glittering golden grains! The box was passed about, and everyone looked at the gold in silence. 

"Well, I snum! Yer've done it! I didn't believe yer could, butyer've done it!"

This remark, from a man in front, made most of the people laugh. One very serious old man kept the box in his hands. He had neitherlaughed nor smiled when the man in front spoke, but he lookedearnestly at Mr. Snider. 

"Just let me test them little bits of dust, will yer, Mister?"

"Test them? Oh, yes, --certainly, certainly. By all means. "

"That's right, " said two or three, "let Melvin test 'em. "

After giving the box to someone else to hold, Melvin fished out ofhis pocket a little china dish and a bottle of some liquid. Theyscraped off some of the gilt particles with a pocket knife, andput them in the dish. Melvin had his bottle poised above them. 

"If it aint genyewine, " said he, solemnly, "it'll fizzle when Ipour this acid onto it, but if it is genyewine, it won't fizzle. "

Then he poured the acid into the dish. There was a pause. 

"It don't fizzle, " said he. 

"Three cheers for Brother Snider!" bellowed the Hon. J. HarveyBowditch. 

The old man who had made the test advanced toward Mr. Snider. Hehad a roll of money in his hand, and I saw a hundred dollar billon top. 

"I'll take a hundred of them shares, Mister, " said he. 

"I come first here, " said another man, "I've had this fixed upwith Harvey Bowditch ever since we come. Gimme fifty shares. "

"I'll take fifty of 'em, " said another man. 

"Here's twenty-five dollars, " said another, "that's good for fiveshares, aint it?"

"Just one moment, friends, " said Mr. Snider, "just one moment. "

They got a stool from the "May Queen, " and a little table. Mr. Snider sat down at the table, with Mr. Bowditch and Deacon Chickhovering near. They produced a bundle of certificates, all printedin bright purple ink, with a picture of Washington, and a bigeagle, and a flag at the top. At the bottom was a great gold seal, with two red ribbons fluttering from it. Mr. Snider filled in thenames with a fountain pen, and the number of shares that each manpurchased. 

He sat there and simply raked in money. I counted three thousanddollars before I got tired counting. But they got more than that, for the black-eyed man--the man who groaned during the speech-making--told me that old Melvin Eaton, who had tested the gold, walked away for a while and thought it over, and then came backand bought four hundred more shares, giving Mr. Snider fivehundred dollars in cash and a check for fifteen hundred. This hadsuch an effect on the others--for Melvin had a reputation forbeing "closer'n the bark of a tree"--that several of them doubledtheir previous purchases. One man had already bought a hundredshares, and now he counted ten more fifty dollar bills into Mr. Snider's hand. The money went into a black bag, and Mr. Sniderraised the number of shares on his certificate to two hundred. 

"No need to waste another certificate, " said he. 

The black-eyed man pulled me by the sleeve, and led me up thewharf, away from the crowd. 

"You didn't come on the boat with us, " he said, "perhaps you'repart of the Company?"

"I am not!" I said, "I came here last night to look for a boat Ihad been cruising in. They made me stay here over night, --Mr. Snider and the Professor did, but I'm going back on the steamerwith you. "

"How do they work this fake anyhow?"

I stared at him. 

"Oh, come! You know it's a fake as well as I do. I knew it was onebefore I came, --anything that Bowditch is in is always a fake. I'm sort of sorry, you know, to see these old roosters gettingskinned so badly. It'll do some of them good, for believing inBowditch, --he never had to do with anything straight yet. "

"Why do they believe in him now?"

"Oh, it's Chick. Chick is an innocent old Betty, he's as muchfooled as the others. He told me that he had put a thousand intothis a week ago, and I don't doubt he has. Bowditch would have gota few of them, --there are always some who believe in a wind-bag, no matter how many bunco games he has been in, but Chick got mostof them. Who knows anything about Snider? Now I've seen him, Iwouldn't let him hold my coat while I ran across the street andback, --not if there was two cents in the coat that I ever wantedto see again. But they swallow him because Chick does, I guess. And Chick does because Bowditch does. And there you are. .. Where'sthis Professor? Everything Chick and Bowditch told us while theywere rounding us up for this trip was about the Professor. It wasProfessor this and Professor that, --and now we get here, and heisn't to be seen. What's happened to him?"

"He went to Lanesport just before the steamer came. "

"Did you see him go?"

"Why, yes. .. I. .. "

"Did you really see him set out on the road and depart?"

"Well, no. .. I don't know that I did. He went around one corner ofthe house, as I went around the other with Snider. .. Why? What doyou mean?"

"He aint down under the wharf salting these gold-boxes or doingsome other kind of monkey business with 'em? Hey?"

"Why, no, " I persisted, weakly, "he's gone to Lanesport, I tellyou. "

But the idea struck me for the first time, --"down under thewharf, "--that was where I had seen them both yesterday. 

"Gone to Lanesport?" he continued, "but you say yourself that youhave only his word for it. Why should he go there today? Thatlooked fishy to me, right on the start. Now the easiest way toaccount for that trick Snider did out there on the wharf is thatthere's someone down there hitching on another box or stuffing inthat gold. It was a pretty good trick, and you saw how it tookwith them. "

"But they say that was real gold, and that those nuggets arereal. "

"Of course they're real. What of it? They could buy that amount ofgold ten times over--twenty times over--with what they've taken inthis morning. And they expect another boat-load of suckers thisafternoon. And this is only the beginning, --Snider's beenrustling around amongst a lot of women and old people over inLanesport, and they're about ready to make over their bank-accounts to him. They LIKE him, you know, --a lot of folks DO likejust that kind of slippery snake. It's funny, --you'd think anyonewith ordinary common-sense would grab hold of his watch and hissmall change, and hang on to it--hard, as soon as Br'er Sniderhove in sight. But no, --they try to crowd their money onto him. .. Real gold! Of course it was real, --that's what fetched 'em. Theydon't stop to think that there's no connection proved between thegold and the sea-water. What got 'em interested at first was oldman Chick's reputation for honesty. He is honest, --no doubt aboutthat, honest as the day is long. Only he's been fooled like therest of 'em, --he was over here two weeks ago, and they did theirtrick for him then, with the tin box and the battery, and the blueand white powders, and all the rest of it. They gave him some ofthe gold they made then, and he carried it up to the city and hadit analyzed. But they could make gold in J. Harvey Bowditch's tallhat just as well as in that old tin box. "

I had been thinking all the time he was speaking. 

"Look here, " I said, "I saw them down under the wharf, yesterdayafternoon. "

"You did? Where?"

I told him all about it, --how I had seen them both on the platformabove the water, what they were doing, and how guilty they hadacted. 

"There's a trap-door, then? Do you suppose you can point it out tome? Let's stroll down there now. Pretend to be talking aboutsomething else, and just cough when we are on the trap. "

It was not very easy to do. There were about thirty peoplestanding on that little wharf, and they had left baskets, coatsand shawls here and there, so that the standing room was prettywell covered. Besides, when I came to look for the trap-door Ifound I could hardly pick it out, it had been so skilfully made. At last I thought we were on it, so I coughed, and the black-eyedman halted. He had been telling me some story all the time, andnow he turned toward me and held out both his hands as if he weremeasuring the size of a fish or something. Then he pointed outinto the bay, threw back his head and laughed. Finally he glanceddown at the trap-door, looked up again quickly, and went on withhis story. Then he moved off the door, looked down at it again, pinched my arm, and whispered: "Say, I think I'll come back herethis afternoon, and have another look at this. "

My back had been turned toward Mr. Snider all the time. He wasstill at the little table, folding up his certificates. Now Iturned and glanced toward him, and found that he was watching usvery intently. I turned again, and walked toward the end of thewharf. As I did so, the whistle of the steam-boat blew a loudtoot, and the people began to crowd on board. I walked on with therest, getting separated, for the moment, from my friend the black-eyed man. I saw him talking with two other men, and a little latersaw Mr. Snider and Mr. Bowditch whispering together and glancingin my direction. 

Well, I thought I was departing from Rogers's Island, and fromSnider, for good and all. You would hardly believe how I got leftbehind. I heard someone say, "Oh, here's the boy who is going tofind my shawl for me!" and I looked around and saw a nice, smilingold lady. 

"Mr. Bowditch says he won't let the steamer go, if you'll run upto the house and see if you can find my grey shawl, --I must havedropped it in the grass there, where we set down. "

I wouldn't have done it for Snider, --I would have suspected somekind of a trick. But I think the lady was sincere, and moreoveryou don't suspect an old person in a black silk dress, with goldspectacles, of laying plots and playing tricks. Her request wasgenuine enough, --Snider simply took advantage of it to let thesteam-boat go without me. 

I was less than five minutes in running up to the house, huntingin the grass until I felt sure the shawl was not there, andstarting back to the wharf again. But while I had been out ofsight of the "May Queen" they had cast off the lines and steamedaway. There she was, going merrily, her stern pointed toward theisland, a trail of thick smoke floating back, the band playing"After the Ball, " and no one paying the slightest attention to me!

Yes, there was though, --just one! The old lady in the black silkdress was standing near the stern waving her hands. I held upmine, --empty--to show that I had not found the shawl, and ran downthe wharf shouting: "Wait! Stop! Come back!"

It was a silly performance. No one heard me, and I do not supposeit would have made the slightest difference if they had. Theywould not turn the boat around and come back for someone who hadno business on board anyway. 

Mr. Snider was not in sight. Had he gone on the steam-boat? Orcrawled through his trap-door underneath the wharf? I did notknow, but I was angry with him. I felt sure that he had purposelylet the boat go without me, --it was part of their scheme to keepme there, until the people had gone in the afternoon. 

Now I should have to go that roundabout way by the road, and getto Lanesport two or three hours late. There was nothing else to bedone, however, so I went up the wharf once more, and started alongthe road. At the turn, just beyond the house, I found Mr. Snider, walking up and down with his hands behind his back. His face wasrather red, and he did not attempt to smile. 

"Why, James, " he said, "so you lost the boat! Well, you can takethe one this afternoon. "

"I'm going now, " said I, "I'm going to walk. "

And I tried to pass him. He stepped in front of me. 

"Just one moment!" said he, "I would rather you stayed until thisafternoon, and then--"

"Let me go, " I answered, "you promised me I could go on the steam-boat, and then you let it sail without me. "

"James, I am sorry to hear you accuse me--"

I tried again to dodge by him, but he reached out one of his longarms and grabbed me by the coat-sleeve. I jerked it out of hisgrasp however, and jumped to the side of the road and tried topass him in the gutter. He headed me off with two strides, --hecouldn't dodge as quick as I, but his long legs gave him anadvantage. Then I lost my head and threatened him. 

"You'd better let me pass, " I said, "I know all about your gamehere, --and your trap-door in the wharf!"

His face became pale again in an instant, not white, --lead color. 

"You little brat!" he squeaked, "I'll wring your neck for you!"

And he made another grab at me. I dodged again, and a third time, and as I did so caught one foot in the grass, stumbled and fell. He had me by the coat collar hi a second, and in another second Iwas out of the coat and running back toward the house. I did notwish to go there, but I didn't have time to choose. The thing todo then was to get away from Mr. Snider. He dropped the coat andcame after me on the run. 

He was a good runner, was Mr. Snider, but I knew I could beat himif I had any sort of a start. His stride was longer, but hecouldn't move as quick. Besides, he was out of practice. When Idashed in at the front door he was just coming up the path. Islammed the door and tried to lock it. But the bolt was rusty andit stuck. I gave that up and ran upstairs, two steps at a time. When I reached the landing I ran along the passage toward the rearin order to get to the stairs to the third storey. Just as Istarted up them I heard Mr. Snider burst in at the front door. Onthe third storey I had to hunt about a little for the stairs tothe attic. I found them in a moment or two, and ran up into theattic, and hid behind a trunk in a dark corner. 

That had been my idea, --to hide in the attic. And a very foolishidea it was, --I can see that now. It is quite easy--sitting hereand writing about it--to think of three or four better plans. Iought to have kept outdoors, and then I could have run around thehouse, dodged Mr. Snider, and got a clear start again for the roadacross the marsh. He could not have caught me then. The hero of"The Rifle Rangers, " for instance, would have planned all that outwhile he was running up the road with Mr. Snider ten feet behind. But I hadn't planned it. My one idea was to get away from Mr. Snider. He looked as if he would murder me, --or, at any rate, half-murder me, and I did not wish to be murdered, nor even half-murdered. I had rushed into the house without thinking what I wasdoing, and now here I was, caught like a rat in a trap, in thishot, dark, and dusty attic. 

For I very soon saw that if Mr. Snider came up into the atticthere was no place to retreat. I could hear him now, huntingthrough all the rooms and closets down below. As soon as he foundI was in none of them, up the attic stair he would come. And thenhe would simply poke about among the boxes and trunks until hefound me. I had run up one flight after another until I hadreached the top, and now I could go no higher. 

No higher? How about the roof? There must be a ladder and ascuttle in the roof. If I could get up there and close the scuttleagain perhaps I would be safe. Mr. Snider might stop at the attic. I jumped up from behind the trunk and hunted about in the semi-darkness. There were other trunks and boxes, old shoes and oldumbrellas on the floor, and I stumbled and bumped against all ofthem. Two or three coats or suits of clothes were swinging fromhooks, dangling unpleasantly, like hanging men. But I found theladder at last. There was a faint rim of light above, at the edgeof the scuttle. It was high time I found it, for I could hear Mr. Snider in the room below now, and I felt sure he would comeupstairs in a minute. 

The ladder was rickety, but it held, and I got to the top, andbegan to fumble for the hasp or lock of the scuttle. It was thickwith cob-webs and dust, and for a while it refused to move. WhileI was working at it I heard Mr. Snider open the door at the footof the attic stairs. 

I stood perfectly still on the ladder. In books they tell how, when you are frightened, your heart comes into your mouth. Itisn't at all what happens. Your heart stays right where it alwaysis, but it thumps so loud that you feel as if it could be heard inthe next room. And your throat becomes horribly dry, all of asudden, and seems to be closing up. It gets so narrow that you canscarcely breathe. 

Mr. Snider paused for a moment and seemed to listen. Then heclosed the door again and tip-toed away. I went to work at thehasp again, and finally I had it open. I raised the scuttle, asquietly as I could, and stepped out on the roof. 

The glare of the sun almost blinded me at first. Then I saw that Iwas on a flat part of the roof, --the highest point in the house. The roof sloped on either side toward an enormous chimney. Theshingles were old and rotten. 

Looking off, I could see a great distance in almost everydirection. Across the bay, so far that I could hardly see thesteam-boat herself, was a trail of black smoke from the "MayQueen. " The water on the other side of the house was hidden by thetrees. 

I turned again to make sure that I had replaced the scuttle. As Idid so I heard Mr. Snider's footsteps in the attic beneath. Myfirst thought was to sit on the scuttle hoping to keep it closed. But I knew that I was not heavy enough to hold it down. Would hethink of the roof? If he did, and if he came up the ladder, ofcourse he would find the scuttle unlocked, and he would know thatI was on the roof. The thing to do was to wait there until heraised the scuttle and then bat him over the head. Butunfortunately, I had nothing to bat him with. 

Sure enough, here he came up the ladder! I retreated down theslope of the roof, --it was a ticklish job, but again my rubber-soled shoes stood me in good stead--and crawled around to theother side of the broad chimney, and hid behind it. 

I had not been there more than a second before he raised thescuttle. I could hear him puffing. Once more my heart began tothump and my throat to contract. He stepped out upon the roof andI suppose he decided immediately that I was behind one of thechimneys. At any rate he started down the roof in my direction. The instant that he did so he slipped and came down on the roofwith a crash. Several shingles must have come out, and he clawedand scraped at a great rate. I thought--and hoped--that he wasgoing to slide right off the roof, but he managed to save himself. His slide was checked somehow, and he commenced to crawl backtoward the scuttle. As he did so he uttered a string of cursesthat would have horrified his friends in Lanesport very much. 

I heard him descend the ladder. It struck me that he was goingdown to the side of the house, to look up to the roof and see if Iwere really behind the chimney. I hurried out from my hiding-placeand crawled on my hands and knees up the slope of the roof. Butwhen I reached the scuttle I found it closed and locked. I couldnot raise it. He had caught me now, --I might stay on that roofforever, for all that I could do. 

Unless--and I already had my jack-knife out--unless I could cutthrough the scuttle and get at the hasp. The wood was old, frail, and half rotten, --in three minutes I had the point of the bladethrough. In five, I had cut a hole large enough to admit twofingers. I knew that I was safe from being seen, --anyone on thatpart of the roof would not be visible from the ground near thehouse. After cutting for a little while longer I put enough of myhand through the hole to unfasten the hasp. Then I raised thescuttle, with the pleasant sensation that this was quite in linewith our escape from the jail at Bailey's Harbor. Even better thanthat, --I was alone here, and cutting my way out, --or ratherdown, with a jack-knife. It gave me a thrill like some of theadventures in "The Rifle Rangers, " and various other story-books. 

No more of the roof, no more of the attic for me! I was tired ofbeing chased about like an animal in a cage, --I was going to getdown stairs and outdoors if I possibly could. I preferred to takea chance with Mr. Snider in the open. 

So I went down the ladder very cautiously and listened in theattic. Then came the attic stairs, at the foot of which there wasa door to open. I got it open, and stepped into the passage-way. Icould hear nothing. Mr. Snider thought I was safely locked upthere on the roof. Little by little and pausing for two or threeminutes on each landing, I crept quietly down stairs. 

When I reached the lower hall I was in doubt whether to go out thefront or the back door. But the back door was open, and so I chosethat. I walked quietly out, crossed the back yard, and nearly raninto Mr. Snider's arms, as he came out of the woodshed with anugly looking club in his hand!

He was more surprised than I, and that gave me the start I needed. He was after me in a second, but I ran around the corner of thehouse and headed for the front yard. Coming through the drivewaywas the Professor! I suppose that he had just come up from hishiding-place beneath the wharf, for his arms were full of hisboxes. As soon as I saw him I turned sharply to the right, ranthrough the side-yard by the speakers' stand, and climbed a railfence on the far side of the garden. 

Then I ran down a little slope toward a clump of trees. As I didso, I looked back and saw Mr. Snider crawling through the fence. 

The trees stood on a little hummock, --there were about a dozen ofthem, with some undergrowth. I ran through this, and came out on arough ledge of rocks, which ended in a little beach. I had come tothe shore on the other side of the island. Here was a small bay, not more than a hundred yards in width. 

Sailing slowly out of this bay was a cat-boat, with a skull andcross-bones pirate-flag at the mast-head. It was the"Hoppergrass"!

CHAPTER XI

PIRATES IN TROUBLE

"Hi! Captain Bannister!" I shouted, "hi!"

Someone--not the Captain, but a boy in a blue shirt--looked upfrom the wheel. Then I heard Mr. Snider come crashing andfloundering through the underbrush, so I waded into the wateruntil I was waist-deep and then struck out to swim. Before I hadmade a dozen strokes Mr. Snider emerged, and ran down to thewater's edge. 

But I had no idea he would follow me now. He didn't look like aperson who could swim, --nor even like one who enjoyed cold watermuch. I glanced back at him over my shoulder, --he was simplystanding there, gazing after me, and rubbing his hands togetherexcitedly, clasping and unclasping them. 

"Captain Bannister!" I called out again, "the Hoppergrass! Wait!"

The boy who was steering put the helm over a trifle, altering thecourse of the boat a little more in my direction. Another boy cameup from below, and stood there staring at me. In three minutes Iwas alongside, and reaching out for the tender. 

"Let me come aboard!" I gasped, --"that man--"

But I was too much winded to say anything more. With somedifficulty--for I had been swimming harder than was necessary--Icrawled into the tender, and sat down to get my breath. As I satthere, one of the boys said:

"Why, that's Mr. Snider!"

Then he pulled the tender alongside, and I stepped on board the"Hoppergrass. "

"Now, I know why you were running, " said he, --"anyone would run toget away from Snider. Has he been advising you to be good?"

"He's been trying to--I don't know what. Kill me, I guess. Do youknow him?"

"Don't we!" they both exclaimed together. 

And then the one at the wheel said: "Has he g-got his g-goldmachine here?"

"Yes, " I said, "he and another man. They're a couple of crooks, and they're cheating people out of stacks of money. How did youknow him?"

"Oh, he's b-been at the house. But after the first t-time wealways s-skun out, over the back f-fence when we heard he wascoming. Mr. Chick brought him, --to talk b-business with F-Father. "

The "Hoppergrass, " still sailing slowly, had drawn near the pointof land at the entrance of the little bay. Mr. Snider, who hadwalked a few steps along the shore, stood near this point, --watching us. We passed so near him that I could easily have hithim with a base-ball, if I had had one, and felt so inclined. Itwas curious to be so near a man who, five minutes earlier, hadbeen chasing me with a club. He was still clasping and unclaspinghis hands nervously, but he said nothing, and neither did we. After about half a minute he turned, and hurried through the treesin the direction of the house. 

"I think I'll get some dry clothes, " said I, starting toward thecabin. Then I stopped, --it occurred to me that there were somequestions to be asked. Up to this moment I had been so glad to getaway from Mr. Snider, and to find the boat again, that I hadthought of nothing else. 

"Say--look here--you know, --how do you happen to be on this boat, anyhow? Where's Captain Bannister?"

Both the boys turned red, and looked silly. They were twinsevidently, --exactly the same size, and almost precisely alike inthe face. Each of them had bright red hair, a great many freckles, and a snub nose. 

"Are you one of the fellows that was on this boat?" asked one ofthem. 

"Yes, " said I. And I told them my name. "That's my shirt you'vegot on, by the way. "

"T-t-tell him about it, S-S-Spike, " said the one at the wheel. 

"Tell him yourself!" growled the other. 

"W-Well, " said the steersman, giving the wheel a twist, "you s-see. .. You s-see. .. Oh! I can't t-tell him, --it makes me s-stutter so d-darned much!"

"Go ahead!" returned Spike. 

"Well, " he began again, "you s-see, we were all going to B-Big D-Duck for a month, an' F-Father said--oh! our name is K-K-Kidd, youknow, --the K-Kidd kids, --th-there! everybody has to spring thatold chestnut about us, because they think it's f-funny. It's soold it's m-m-mouldy, but we might as well s-say it and g-g-get itover with! W-Well, we were all going to Big D-D-Duck, s-s-same'swe do every s-summer. B-But F-Father got awful cranky 'cause we f-fell behind at s-school last year, and he m-mapped out a p-p-programme of entertainments f-for us this s-summer that didn'tstrike us as--as--as exactly oh! as exactly b-b-bully, you know. .. In f-fact, it was b-b-bum! S-Studying about all s-summer. .. S-Say, w-won't you f-freeze?"

I thought I might do so, myself, so I took off my wet clothes, andspread them out in the sun. Then I went below, found my bag, brought it up on deck, and began to dress again. He went on, inthe meantime, with his story. 

"Well, F-Father didn't c-c-confess his f-foul p-plot till the veryd-day we were going to Big D-Duck. That was--it was--oh, when wasit, S-S-Spike?"

"It was--er--I'm all mixed up about time, " said Spike. 

"S-Same here, " replied the other. 

"It was day before yesterday, --Tuesday, " Spike finally remarked. 

"T-Tuesday. That's right. W-Well, F-Father g-gave us this awful j-j-jolt at l-l-luncheon. Th-That was F-Father's idea of m-making m-m-merry. It didn't t-t-tickle us m-most to d-death, s-s-somehow. We t-talked it over that afternoon, out in the b-barn, and wedecided to k-k-k-k-quit. We'd t-take the b-boat ourselves, and--"

"We were all going to sail over to Big Duck in a cat-boat, youknow. Father hires a boat every summer. "

"S-Say, S-S-Spike, g-go ahead, if you want to. "

"I don't. You go on, --you're getting there all right. You'll cometo the point in an hour or two. "

"W-Well, I aint c-c-crazy about it, you know. .. W-Well, we wereall going, the whole f-family, in a new cat-boat that belongs toC-Captain B-Bill P-P-P-Prendergast. We hadn't seen her, 'causehe's had her over at P-Porpoise Island all s-summer, taking out s-sailing p-parties. F-Father said she was d-down at W-W-Woodwell'sWharf--C-C-Captain B-Bill had brought her over in the morning, andthen he'd gone back to P-Porpoise Island. He was engaged to c-c-cook c-c-clam chowders at the American House. W-We were going tosail her over to Big D-Duck--S-S-Spike and I--w-w-while F-Fatherm-messed around and th-thought he was running the whole s-s-show. That was his p-p-p-plan. B-B-But we decided to nip his g-g-game inthe b-b-b-bud, b-b-b-b-(oh! hang it!) b-b-by sneakin' down aheadof the f-family, and just sailing away on that b-boat, andembarking on a c-c-career of pup-pup-pup-piracy!"

"You see, " said Spike, "we got so sick of all this Kidd talk thatwe thought we might as well get something out of it. "

"B-Besides, " said the other, "w-we were d-d-d-desperate. W-We g-got this f-f-flag--s-skull and cross-bones, you know that we hadon our b-boat, the 'J-J-Jolly Roger, ' last summer, and we l-l-litout for W-W-Woodwell's Wharf to f-f-f-f-fool F-Father. It was p-pretty f-f-foggy when we got to the wharf, and we s-saw itwouldn't be s-safe for F-Father and M-M-Mother and B-Betty andAlice and the b-b-baby to go sailing, anyhow. But there wasn't anyb-boat at W-Woodwells, --she was over at M-M-Mulliken's Wharf. Sow-we s-skun around, and g-got aboard, hoisted the s-sail, and s-started down the river. W-We were nearly out into the b-bay beforeit struck us that we weren't on the right b-boat. "

"I went down into the cabin, " said Spike, "and it was all full ofbags and things. Our stuff had gone over--some of it--to Big Duckthat morning, by the steamer. And the rest, Father was going tobring down to the wharf in the carriage. But these bags weremarked a lot of strange names, --Toppan, and Edwards, and so on. "

"T-Tell him about the n-name, S-S-Spike. "

"Oh, yes. There was a strip of canvas hitched over the stern, --ithad something painted on it in black letters. I hung over thestern, but I couldn't make it out, --because it looked upsidedown, of course. So I got out in the tender and read it, and itwas 'Hannah J. Pettingell. ' Then there was another name underthat, --in gilt letters, in the regular way. That seemed kind offunny, and when I got back on the boat we unhitched the cords andpulled up the canvas sign. I tried again, hanging over the stern, and spelled out the gilt letters, one at a time. The name was'Hoppergrass. ' We thought there must be some funny business, --aboat with two names, like that. "

"That's why the Captain had the crier call it the HannahPettingell, " I reflected. 

"Well, we knew we were on the wrong boat, " said Spike, "becauseCaptain Bill Prendergast's is the 'Clara'. "

"B-B-But what could we d-d-d-do? We didn't d-dare to go b-back. IfF-Father didn't l-l-l-lambaste the l-l-l-life out of us, the o-owner of this b-boat would. We had s-started out to be pup-pup-pirates, and we had m-made a b-b-bully g-g-good beginning, b-by g-g-gum!"

"Say, you don't own this boat, do you?" asked Spike, suddenly. 

"No. "

"Oh, th-that's too bad! J-Just think. If you d-did, n-now we've s-s-s-saved you from S-Snider you'd be in a f-friendly f-f-frame ofmind, and we could t-turn the b-boat over to you, everything f-forgiven, and no k-k-k-questions asked. "

"It belongs to Captain Bannister, and I wish you'd tell me wherehe is, " I answered. 

"D-D-Do you think you can s-s-square us with B-B-B-Baluster?"

"Ye-es, --I guess so. "

I did not want to be dismal about it, but my own opinion was thatthe Captain would be furious. His boat had been missing now fortwo days. 

"W-Well, if he thinks we've been having a p-p-p-picnic, that'swhere he's off. We s-sailed over to S-S-Squid C-Cove that night, and went ashore in the t-t-tender. It was d-d-dark as a p-p-pocket, and this ch-ch-chump here, S-Spike, didn't make the t-tender f-fast to the s-slip, and she f-floated off. The f-fog wasso thick that we couldn't s-see the yacht, and we didn't dare t-try to s-swim for her, b-because if we got wet and c-couldn't f-find her, and had to l-l-loaf around all night on s-shore, s-s-soppin' wet, why, that would be r-r-rotten, you see. S-Spike s-s-stripped and s-swum out into the f-fog, but he couldn't f-f-findher, and we thought the b-b-blooming yacht had g-gone adrift, t-too! And so we s-stayed on sh-shore, and slept in a p-p-potato-patch, and all we had to eat was some r-r-radishes. I ate f-f-fiiteen of 'em, and they g-g-gave me the p-p-p-p-pip. .. And whenwe woke up in the m-morning, there was the t-tender, on sh-shore, about t-twenty yards away, -she had f-floated b-back again, yousee. "

We were getting out into the Bay, and I asked them where they weregoing. 

"G-G-G-G-Give it up; there's no p-place that's s-safe for us, now. Everyone's hand is against us. "

I asked them to head for Lanesport, and told them that I expectedto meet the rest of the "Hoppergrass's" crew there. 

"L-L-L-L-L-Lanesport!" exclaimed the boy at the wheel, "it w-wouldbe sailing into the j-j-jaws of d-d-d-death! W-Why, d-don't you s-see when we s-stole this b-boat w-we c-committed pup-pup-piracy onthe high s-s-seas! They'd s-s-s-string us right up at the y-y-yard-arm!"

"Oh, no, they wouldn't. I'll fix it up with Captain Bannister. "

"That's all right, " said Spike, "but piracy isn't the only thingthey've got against us. "

"Isn't it?"

"Not by a long shot. "

"Why, what else have you done?"

"B-B-Burglary, b-b-by g-g-gum! S-S-Say, what were you f-fellowsdoing? This b-boat is said to be owned by n-notorious b-b-b-b-burglars and thieves!"

I put my head down on the cabin, and laughed until I thought Ishould choke. 

"You can laugh, but it didn't look like a joke to us. "

"You b-bet it didn't. "

"Where did you go from Squid Cove?"

"We stayed right there most of the morning, --eating breakfast, and getting some sleep, and--"

"R-R-Recoverin' from the p-p-p-p-potato-patch. "

"Then we sailed around the Bay, and just fooled about until thelast part of the afternoon. All the time we were wondering whothis boat belonged to, and what they were doing about it. Once westarted to abandon her at Squid Cove, and write a 'nonymous letterto the owner at Lanesport. Then Spook here, the big galoot, thought it would be a good idea to sail over to Bailey's Harborand find out what had happened, and if there was any news ofFather and--"

"Th-That's where I w-was f-f-f-foxy!"

"Yes! So foxy that you nearly got us jugged. You would have, if wehad gone up the inlet. 'Twas just luck that we didn't. We anchoredquite a way down, and thought we'd have supper first and then goashore after dark. Say, those mince turnovers were great! Therewas a dory came along with a couple of little boys, about nine orten years old. We noticed that they stopped and looked at theboat, but we didn't think anything of that until half an hourlater. We were eating supper, down in the cabin, and Spook lookedout one of the cabin windows and saw another boat, with two men init. One of them was armed--"

"W-With a pup-pup-pitchfork!"

"They squinted round for a few minutes, and then THEY went up theinlet again. 'Bout twenty minutes later, just as we were haulingup the anchor and going to sail up to the village, Spook sung outthat there were three dories coming down, all full of men withpitchforks--"

"And g-g-g-g-guns!"

"He said, 'They're onto us, --they've heard about our stealing thisboat!' I put her about quick, and it was mighty lucky there was abreeze. Ten minutes before, it was almost a dead calm. As soon aswe swung around they began to yell--"

"L-L-Like b-b-blue b-b-blazes! Th-There was one g-great b-b-big d-d-d-d-d-duffer, about t-t-ten f-feet t-t-tall! He w-was the one Is-saw in the b-boat w-while we were eating s-supper, w-with thepup-pup-pitchfork. .. "

"That was Eb, " I remarked, --"it's lucky he didn't catch you!"

"E-E-Eb?"

"Yes. He's the constable. Savagest man I ever saw. He arrestspeople for almost anything, --for playing banjos. "

"W-Well, we d-didn't p-p-play any b-b-b-banjos then, b-by g-g-gum! I thought it w-was all up with us, and that we'd b-be d-d-d-dangling on the g-g-g-gallows b-b-before l-l-long! You s-see, theyg-g-gained on us, at f-first. They r-rowed l-l-like fuf-fuf-fiends! B-But we b-began to d-draw ahead, and then the d-d-d-d-duffer with the pup-pitchfork--he was in the b-bow of the f-firstb-boat--b-began to yell and b-b-bellow. He s-said that if we d-didn't s-stop he'd f-fill us f-full of b-b-b-b-b-bullets! S-Someone p-passed him up a g-g-gun, and when we saw that, I t-tellyou, we d-dropped d-down in the b-bottom of the b-boat. S-Spike c-c-clung on to the wheel, and held her on her c-course, and we c-crouched down there, waiting for the old b-brute to b-b-blazeaway. But he c-couldn't s-see us, and so there wasn't anyone forhim to f-fire at. M-M-Maybe it was all b-b-bluff, b-but we didn'tintend to s-stand up and t-try it, I t-tell you' After about t-tenminutes we p-p-peeked over the rail, and they were w-way b-back. They had g-given it up, and s-s-stopped r-rowing. P-Pretty s-soon, they t-turned around and went b-back. B-But we thought B-B-Bailey's Harbor was a p-pretty healthy p-place to k-k-k-keep awayfrom!"

"And we didn't find out until this morning, " said Spike, "why theywere after us. It wasn't for taking this boat at all. We sailedaround on the Bay all night, --we didn't dare land. We stood watch-and-watch, --I'd sleep while Spook took the wheel, and then Isailed her while he had a nap. This morning we were off thisisland about seven o'clock and we met a lobsterman in his boat. Webought some lobsters of him and he gave us this paper. "

Spike pulled it out from under a seat and handed it to me. I stillhave that paper. It was the "Lanesport Herald" of the eveningbefore, --Wednesday evening. There was an article on the front pageheaded "Capture Marauders!" Underneath, it went on: "GoodDetective Work--Flanders Holds Crooks--Daring Escape. " Then Iread the article aloud:

"A clever piece of detective work on the part of Constable EbenFlanders of Bailey's Harbor resulted in landing in jail the gangof miscreants who have been making a series of breaks on LittleDuck Island and vicinity and terrorizing the neighborhood Tuesdaynight. The miscreants who are believed to be well-known crooks andare the same who perpetrated the breaks at the residence of Mrs. Sarah B. Ellis last Saturday night and at the residence of Dr. Horace Bigelow the well-known physician Monday night wereapprehended in the act of pillaging the summer residence of T. Parker Littlefield, the prominent attorney of Boston. 

"Constable Flanders was notified by Moses Silloway of Bailey'sHarbor that he had observed some parties acting suspiciously inthe vicinity of his residence and that these parties were walkingstealthily in the direction of the Littlefield residence. With hisusual promptness Constable Flanders gathered a posse and seizedthe miscreants in the act. In a very short time the miscreantswere all lodged in the new jail at Bailey's Harbor to await theaction of the Court in the morning when they would have anopportunity of explaining their actions to His Honor JudgeTreddick but when Deputy Constable Justin Coker opened the jailthis morning he found that the parties had all vanished and thatthey could not be found. Considerable mystery surrounds the escapeof the miscreants and it is believed that they received assistancefrom outside and that some dastard or dastards gaining access tothe jail liberated the parties. 

"An important clue is held by Constable Flanders as it is knownthat the parties came to Bailey's Harbor in a yacht namedHoppergrass and a search is being made for that yacht, ConstableFlanders promising the yacht a warm reception if he finds her inthe vicinity of Bailey's Harbor with the miscreants on board. "

"W-Well, he k-k-k-kept that p-p-p-promise, all r-right!" remarkedSpook. 

"Only you see, " said Spike, "the miscreants weren't on board. "

"That wouldn't have made any difference to Eb, " I told him, "he'dhave run you in just as quick. "

"Now you s-see why we're a l-l-little sh-shy of going anywhere! W-With F-Father at B-Big D-Duck, p-p-p-probably, n-n-n-gnashing hist-t-teeth, w-we have only g-got the ch-choice b-between being s-s-strung up for pup-pup-pirates at L-L-Lanesport or j-j-jugged f-forb-b-b-burglars at B-B-Bailey's Harbor. "

"But you haven't told us yet what you had done, " Spike remarked, "did YOU break into Littlefield's house?"

So I gave them the whole story, beginning with Tuesday afternoon, when we left Captain Bannister on the "Hoppergrass" at Bailey'sHarbor. I told them how we came back there and found our boatgone, how we blundered into Littlefield's house in the fog, how wewere caught, how we escaped from jail, and all the rest of it. Then I told about my trip to Rogers's Island, how I saw theProfessor and Mr. Snider under the wharf, and how they suspectedme of spying on them, and tried to keep me on the Island. 

"It was about the first lucky thing that has happened, " I said, "when I found you. Snider could run pretty well, and the Professorwas there, too, to head me off, --and I couldn't keep runningaround that island forever. "

"S-Say, " said Spook, "l-l-let's have some g-g-grub. T-Take thewheel, will you, S-Spike?"

He and I went below, and brought up some things to eat. We werewell out in the Bay now, --Rogers's Island was only a dim blue spotastern. We ate luncheon, and discussed where we should go. I wastrying to make them see that it would be safe enough to sail overto Lanesport, when Spook paused, with a banana raised toward hismouth. 

"W-W-What's that b-boat?" he asked. 

He was looking straight ahead. Both Spike and I looked under theboom and saw the sail of a yacht about a mile away. She was headeddirectly for us. 

"Oh, some boat, --or other, " said Spike, nibbling at a jam-coveredcracker, which Spook had fixed for him. 

"L-L-Let's ch-change our c-course a b-bit, --she m-may be f-fullof p-p-persons with pup-pup-pitchforks. "

"Rats!" remarked Spike. 

But he shifted the course, just the same. We drew away from thestrange yacht for about three minutes, and then, --

"Sh-She's c-coming about!" shouted Spook. 

She certainly was coming about. In a few seconds she was headedfor us once again. 

"I d-don't know about you f-fellows, b-but I'll never b-be t-takenalive. It's those d-d-d-duffers from B-Bailey's Harbor again, --they've p-probably got c-c-cannon on b-board this t-time!"

Spike sat in silence, looking back at the stranger now and then. After about five minutes he said:

"They're not gaining on us much. "

It was hard to tell whether they gained or not. As far as I couldsee there had not been any change in the distance between us sincethe other boat came about. There was a good breeze and both boatswere now running before it. 

"L-Let's c-clear away this g-g-grub, --we want r-room to r-repel b-b-boarders. "

"We won't have to repel them, " said I, "they can't catch us. "

"If they do, " replied Spike, "they'll only get aboard this boatthrough a perfectly murderous fire of raspberry jam. "

"R-Raspberry j-j-jam d-doesn't r-repel b-b-boarders, " said Spook, hustling the dishes below, "h-h-half as m-m-much as s-s-stewed p-p-prunes. " He stopped, with his head out of the cabin door. 

"S-S-Say!" he exclaimed, pointing, "isn't th-that another b-boat?"

There was another boat, certainly, --a sail had appeared somedistance behind the yacht we had first sighted. 

"They're not chasing us, " remarked Spike; "somebody's chasingthem!"

"What makes you think anybody is chasing anybody?" I asked. "Theymay be just out for a sail. Anyone would think there was a wargoing on here in Broad Bay. "

"Th-There's b-b-battle, m-murder, and s-s-sudden d-death g-g-going on for us, --at B-Bailey's Harbor. And l-l-look! B-By J-J-J-Jiminy Kuk-Kuk-Crickets! There's another b-boat!"

"Oh, they're all probably pleasure boats, like this one. "

"D-D-Do you c-c-call this a p-p-pleasure b-boat? S-Seems to m-methe 'H-Hoppergrass' is b-becoming a b-b-burden, like the one inthe B-Bible. "

"Just the same, " said Spike, looking back uneasily, "this last onehas come from Rogers's Island, I should think. Do you suppose itis Snider and the other man? Did they have a boat?"

"I didn't see any, " I replied. 

"They'd be sure to have one, though. "

Spook went down into the cabin again, to get Captain Bannister'sspy-glass. While he was down there, hunting for it, his brotherand I watched the yacht and the two smaller sailboats behind us. The yacht and the boat which came from the direction of Rogers'sIsland were so situated that a line drawn between them would haveformed the base of a triangle at the apex of which was the"Hoppergrass. " The other small boat was half a mile or more behindthe yacht. As we watched the three of them, the wind dropped alittle, and there came a hot puff from the land. 

"Hullo!" said Spike, "there won't be any chasing if the wind goesdown much more. "

Spook came on deck with the spy-glass and spent some time intrying to make out who was on the three boats. Beyond thinkingthat he saw pitchforks on all of them, however, he did not give usmuch information. The wind continued to fail, and it got hotterand hotter. In ten minutes we were sailing at a very slow rate, --hardly more than moving. The yacht was becalmed, its sailflapping. The little boat from Rogers's Island, however, still hada breeze; it was about half a mile distant and drawing up on us. 

The behavior of the wind was explained by a mass of white clouds, dark underneath, which had been piling up in the west. For an hourthey had been gathering, and now we saw that they were thunder-heads. They promised all the wind we needed, before long. 

Presently the small boat ran into the calm streak, and her sail, too, hung loose. She was near enough now for us to see that shewas merely a large sailing dory. There were two men on board her, but whether they were Mr. Snider and the Professor I could nottell. I reached for the spy-glass, when Spike said:

"They're going to row. "

One of the men had lowered the sail, and the other was getting outa long pair of oars. 

"W-Well, what's the matter with our d-d-doing that, too?"

"We can't row this boat, you chump!"

"N-No, b-but one of us c-c-can t-take a line in the t-t-tender, and t-tow her. "

"They'll go three feet to our one. "

"That's all right, " I said, "it's worth trying. We can keep awayfrom them for a while. There's a breeze coming out of those cloudsin a few minutes, and then we can sail around them in circles. "

I was anxious to get away. I had had a glimpse through the spy-glass, and thought I recognized Mr. Snider. We hauled the tenderalongside, and Spook got in it to begin the towing. Just as he didso, and as I was standing outside the cock-pit, there came a soundabove my head as if the air had been split open. 

"Wh-wh-whi-i-i-i-ing--whip!"

The sail of the "Hoppergrass" shivered and the halliards rattled. Almost at the same instant there was a sharp "Crack!" from thedory behind us. 

"The blooming sons-of-guns!" exclaimed Spike; "they're firing atus!"

"Firing?"

"Yes; a rifle. Look there!"

There was a puff of smoke floating away from the dory. 

"And see that little hole in the sail. That's where the bulletwent through. "

Spike and I dropped into the cock-pit, and crouched below theseats. Spike hurriedly told his brother to do the same. 

"N-N-No, I g-g-guess I'm better off right here. He'll have to d-d-drill through b-both s-sides of the 'G-G-Grasshopper', --I m-meanthe 'H-Hoppergrass' before he can hit m-me. I'm afraid B-B-BrotherS-S-Snider is f-f-forgetting to be g-g-good!"

And then we could hear him quoting Mr. Snider. 

"'It's the w-way to b-b-be h-happy, F-F-Frederick, and s-s-successful, and R-RICH. D-D-Did you ever hear of Abraham P. F-F-F-Fillmore, F-F-Frederick?'"

There was an interval--not a very pleasant one--while we waitedfor Mr. Snider to try another shot at us. 

"Here's the wind!" said Spike, suddenly; "climb aboard!"

Spook crawled into the "Hoppergrass" just as we felt the firstcool gust against our faces. A cloud blew across the sun for aninstant. The boom swung out with a rattle and a bump, the sailfilled, and the "Hoppergrass" heeled over to the breeze. It wasonly a light puff, and it did not last long, but it was enough toget us under way once more. Spike and I took a peek toward Mr. Snider's boat. They were getting up their sail, so Spike jumped upon the seat again. He was in danger there, if they should fireagain, but as he said, he could not sail the boat while he wascrouched on deck. 

The dory's sail went up in a jiffy, and again the wind seemed tofavor them, for they pulled up on us rapidly. We were sailing, butby no means as well as at first. The Professor was steering theirboat, I thought, but it was impossible to be sure. Both men keptalmost entirely out of sight. 

Then we caught the breeze again. It was puffy and uncertain, --theforerunner of a squall. 

"We'll say good-bye to 'em now, " exclaimed Spike, gleefully. 

"B-But we won't sh-shake that yacht s-s-so easy, --l-look at 'em!H-Hoisting a j-j-jib, d-d-d-dod r-rabbit 'em!"

We had forgotten the other boats, in our excitement over the dory. Spike looked back over his shoulder. 

"This seems like persecution to me, " he remarked. "One troubleafter another. No chance to put any more sail on this boat, " headded. 

"And no sail to put, " said I. 

"Look! They're setting a spinnaker, too! Now they'll come!"

We saw the long boom run out, waver, and settle into place. Thenthere bulged out upon it a great mass of canvas that made the jiblook like a handkerchief. The yacht simply tore through the water. Any hope of keeping ahead of her for ten minutes was absurd. Shewas really trying to catch us now, and she was doing it. She grewin size every second, an overwhelming cloud of canvas, --a finesight on the darkening water. 

"T-T-Tack!" exclaimed Spook, "she c-can't s-sail into the windwith that s-spinnaker!"

"What's the good?" growled Spike, "she can sail all round thisboat, just with her mainsail and jib. "

Now the yacht bore down on us with a rush, cutting through thewater and sending spray flying on either side of the bow. The dorywas forgotten as we watched this new enemy. There was no one to beseen on board, --the spread of her canvas hid everything. 

Just as her bow-sprit pushed by the stern of the "Hoppergrass"something white stirred near the mast. Then two wings flapped, andthere was a sound of "Quack! Quack! Quaa-a-a-a-ck!"

CHAPTER XII

THE VOYAGE BEGINS AGAIN

At the same moment Captain Bannister poked his head under the sailand looked at us. His face was grim--as it might have been thattime he was chased by pirates in the China Sea--and he had adouble-barreled shot-gun in his hand. 

When he saw me his mouth opened, and he stared helplessly. Icaught sight of Mr. Daddles standing near the Captain, Sprague atthe wheel, and Jimmy Toppan and some others busy with the sails. Then I fully realized what had first dawned on me when I heard thequacking of Simon the duck. This was Sprague's boat, of course. Itwas not strange that I hadn't recognized her. Coming up as shedid, bow on, there was very little to distinguish her from anyother yacht. And I was never familiar with her appearance. 

(By the way, I have forgotten to tell the name of the yacht. Itwas the "White Rabbit, "--named, said Sprague, after his favoritecharacter in a book. And as the boat was painted black, it pleasedhim especially to call her this, in order to annoy the matter-of-fact Chief. )

Spook crawled under a seat as soon as he saw Captain Bannister. 

"G-G-Guns again!" said he; "I t-told you s-so!"

"Come out!" I said, "come out quick! It's all right, --these are myfriends. That is Captain Bannister. "

"The one wh-who owns this b-boat?"

"Yes. "

"D-Do you c-call th-that all r-right?"

"Yes; we can explain, and fix it up. Come out of there, --we havegot to tell them about Snider, and get them to help us drive himoff. "

The "White Rabbit" passed us as if we were standing still. One byone all those on board turned and waved their hands at me, --allexcept Jimmy Toppan, who was having too good a time with the sailsto care for any person on earth. Presently they took in thespinnaker and came about. 

I persuaded Spike to believe that these people were neither policenor crooks, nor anything else dangerous. I got him to come about, while I dropped the peak of the sail. We made no more attempt toescape, and in a few minutes the "White Rabbit" was alongside. 

Then there had to be explanations. Everybody asked questions atonce. 

"What are you doing here, Sam?"

"Where'd you find the 'Hoppergrass'?"

"Why aren't you at Rogers's Island?"

"Why didn't you come back to Lanesport?"

"Why did you try to run away from us?"

"Who are those fellows in the dory?"

The last question struck me as the one to be answered. But we hadto keep an eye on the weather, --the worst of the squall waspassing off to the north-east, and going out to sea, but it wasstill breezy, and rather ticklish work for two boats so closetogether. We dropped our sail, while the "White Rabbit" took ineverything but the jib. 

When we were near enough to talk comfortably, I pointed to thedory, which was only a stone's throw distant. 

"Those are the men--the Gold Company people--from Rogers's Island. They've been shooting at us with a rifle!"

"Shooting? What for?"

"Is there a feller named Caleb Snider there?" asked the Captain, reaching again for his shot-gun. 

"Yes, he--"

But Mr. Snider arose in the dory to speak for himself. He had onhis black "swallow-tail" still, and his "Bless you!" manner. Hisrifle did not appear. 

"James!" he called to me, "James! You have treated us badly. Theft, James, theft--"

But Captain Bannister cut in with a scream. 

"Theft! you old sarpent, you! THEFT! I like to hear YOU talk aboutit! You don't know me, but I know you! Where's that three hundreddollars I put into your Monte Cristo mine in '78? You old buzzard!I heard tell there was a feller of your name runnin' some gold-brick scheme at Rogerses', an' I cal'lated I'd come over an' seeyou. Why, --"

The Professor evidently thought that they would do well to leavethese troubled waters. He jammed the tiller down, and tried tosheer away. It was the most unfortunate moment possible. 

"Look out!" shouted Sprague; "look out! You're going--"

A gust of wind caught their sail, the boom jibed, nearly knockingMr. Snider overboard, the little mast snapped like a match, andthe sail went into the water, leaving their boat helpless. 

The same gust so nearly brought our boat into collision with the"White Rabbit" that we were getting out oars, to try to fend off, while those on board the yacht hastily took in their last sail. Afew drops of rain fell at the same moment, but we hardly noticedthem. In the midst of the confusion another voice arose on theother side of the yacht. 

"Yer're all under arrest, --all on ye!"

It was Eb and his merry men, who had come up in the second smallboat. He still had the pitchfork, which had made such animpression on Spook. 

But his voice merely aroused Captain Bannister the more. He was asfull of rage as a turkey-cock, --his face purple, and his shortfigure shaking with anger. He stood on a seat in the yacht, anddominated the whole fleet. He turned on the constable of Bailey'sHarbor as if he had expected his arrival. 

"You go plumb to blazes, Eb Flanders! Go on! Git outer here! You akunsterble! You aint fit to ketch muck-worms! Arrestin' boys forburglary, when the worst land-shark in the country is runnin' abunco-game right under yer face an' eyes! Go over an' arrest themfellers, --arrest that there Snider!"

The voice of Snider was now heard, imploring aid. 

"Is that Constable Flanders? Mr. Flanders, come to our assistance!Our mast is broken. Professor Von Bieberstein and I are here. "

"Jus' the same, " said Eb, "I've got to arrest that feller!" Hepointed at Daddles. "I ketched him burglarisin' Littlefield'shouse. You'll lay yourself open to a charge of resistin' aofficer, if yer interfere, Lem!"

"You'll lay YOURSELF open to a charge of buckshot!" roared theCaptain, "if you try to come on this boat! That's my boat overthere--the 'Hoppergrass'--an' I come into Bailey's with her lastToosday afternoon, an' this feller was with me, an' the three boysyou arrested. An' what they told you was true, --they thought theywas in his uncle's house, --an' anybody would have knowed it, but apuddin'-headed son of a sea-cook, like you!"

"Mr. Flanders! Mr. Flanders!" called Snider, again, "you must comeand help us. There is water in this boat, --we are in danger ofsinking!"

"Yes, go an' help him, " shouted the Captain, "an' take that crowdof numbskulls with you. "

Eb's boat--the only one of the four under sail--had drawn wellahead of us. His "crowd of numbskulls" consisted of three men, among whom was Justin of the fan-like ears. They crossed our bows, and came back to the assistance of Mr. Snider. The two gold makerswere transferred to the constable's boat, where they seemed to betreated with great awe and respect. A light rain was falling now, and the wind had moderated. Sprague ran up his jib, and maneuveredhis boat alongside the "Hoppergrass" again, --this time with a viewto letting the Captain, Ed, and Jimmy come aboard. Out of regardfor the paint, however, they finally came in the tender. About thesame time we saw Eb's boat, towing the disabled dory, set out inthe direction of Rogers's Island. 

"There goes the crooks, " remarked Captain Bannister, "safe in theprotection of the kunsterble. "

"Yes, " said I, "they'll have to hurry back, and get the Professordown under the wharf before the 'May Queen' arrives. She's dueabout three o'clock, with a lot more money on board for 'em. "

I was anxious to get the Captain in the right frame of mind towardthe twins. There was no need to worry, however. His anger vanishedwhen Snider and Eb departed. Besides, it appeared that he knew howthey happened to be on board the "Hoppergrass. " As soon as he hadlooked his boat over, he turned to Spook. 

"Your father said we'd find you when we found this boat! But Iwasn't so sure. I heard about these here burglars, so I thought itcouldn't do any harm to have a gun ready. "

"F-Father! How'd he know?"

"Well, he could put two and two together when he heard I'd losther from Mulliken's Wharf. Besides he's seen a feller that saw youoff Squid Cove yesterday. "

"C-Captain B-B-Baluster, I wouldn't s-steal your b-boat again f-for a th-th-th-m-million dollars. It's been a t-time of a-a-absolute m-m-misery!"

Then we said good-bye to Sprague, Pete, the Chief, and Simon theduck. The "White Rabbit" was going to Porpoise Island, and we setout again to Lanesport. 

"Mr. Daddles--" I began, --but he interrupted me. 

"I've demonstrated to the satisfaction of everyone on board the'White Rabbit' that that nickname is grossly unjust. It was givenme by someone who thought I walked like a duck. Simon and I wentthrough our paces--side by side, and it was voted that there wasnot the slightest resemblance. My name is Hendricks, --RichardHendricks when I'm up before Eb. Though--"

He hesitated an instant and stammered. 

"You need not be excessively formal. My first name IS Richard, butmy middle name is William, and, as the poet says, the fellers callme Bill. "

Spike--who was looking after the "White Rabbit"--turned his headwith a snap. 

"BILLY Hendricks?"

"Yes. "

"The sprinter?"

"Even so!" And Mr. Daddles laughed. 

There was a pause, and then Spook said:

"B-But it said in the p-papers that you were c-coming East in thefall t-t-to take a p-p-post-g-graduate c-course at--"

"That's so. But I wanted to earn a little money too, so I promisedMr. Kidd to come to Big Duck Island and tutor his sons for amonth, in Latin and English. And when I saw him yesterday, he toldme I must catch the sons. This is the first time I have evertooted. "

Spook fell back on the cabin and kicked. 

"And w-we've b-been t-trying to g-give you the s-slip!" he moaned. 

 It took us nearly all the afternoon to reach Lanesport. When therain stopped, the wind fell, and we were almost becalmed. Weknocked about on the Bay till a little before five o'clock. 

Ed and Jimmy told me how they had found the Captain at Big DuckIsland, and how he had spent the night with them all on the "WhiteRabbit. " In the morning the whereabouts of the "Hoppergrass" wasstill a mystery, although the Captain had been told that the Kiddshad probably taken her. Everyone was too impatient, however, tostay at Big Duck until noon, so they set out for Lanesport. Ofcourse they did not find me at the Eagle House, so they decided tomake for Rogers's Island. They were on their way when they sightedus. It was our action, in altering our course, that made themthink there might be something in the theory that the"Hoppergrass" had been stolen by the burglars. 

Then I told them about my adventures with the gold makers, andSpook--to the Captain's great delight--related the troubles of theKidd brothers on board the "Hoppergrass. " Toward five o'clock wegot a breeze, and half an hour later sailed up the river again, toLanesport. 

"We won't land at Mulliken's Wharf, " said Captain Bannister, "I'mkinder superstitious 'bout that. "

"Why did you come over here that afternoon?" I asked him. 

"To see if I could get some letters to put on the stern of thisboat. I'd rigged up a sign on canvas 'fore I left the Harbor, 'butit didn't look quite fust class. I'd no manner of notion but whatI'd get back 'fore you boys did from Fishback. "

At the wharf next the one where we landed the "May Queen" waslying, still covered with flags and bunting. She was empty, however, except for a man washing down the deck. The band had goneand her glory had departed. There was a boy in a small boat rowingaround the steamer, and staring at her. I seemed to remember hisround, red face and when he put down an oar, and waved his hand, grinning and showing where his front teeth ought to have been, Irecollected him instantly. He was the boy who had driven thehorse-car from Squid Cove yesterday afternoon. Now, he let hisboat float down alongside the "Hoppergrass. "

"Have you heard about the Comp'ny?" said he. 

"No, --what about it?"

"Gee! Bust up! Yes, --the excursion went over again this afternoon, on the 'May Queen' here, an'--an' Gran'father went too, an' whileMr. Snider was doin' the 'speriment Orlando Noyes an' two otherfellers pried up a place on the wharf with a crow-bar, an' theyfound the P'fessor down there, --he was up to some monkey business, an' they say the whole thing is a fake! Gee! An' that aint all, neither. They've arrested Mr. Snider an' the P'fessor, --they'rethe burglars that have been burglin' houses over on Little Duck. One of the fellers with Orlando was a special perlice an' theywent through the house an' found a whole lot of spoons an' thingsthat they stole outer Mis' Ellis' house. They say the P'fessoraint a p'fessor at all, --he just got outer State's Prison 'bout amonth ago!"

No one on the "Hoppergrass" was as much interested in this as theCaptain and I. So while we talked with the boy, Ed Mason and JimmyToppan walked up town to get some supplies, while Mr. Daddles--orBilly Hendricks, rather--and the two Kidds went to see Mr. Kidd athis office. We had invited all three of them to come with us andfinish the week on the "Hoppergrass. " We felt that they belongedon the boat now, and that the voyage was really just beginning. 

In an hour they were all back once more. The Kidds had been totheir house for some clothes. They were allowed to go with us oncondition that we sail over to Big Duck Island as soon as wecould, to prove to the others of their family that they were stillalive and above water. 

"And that'll be all right, " said the Captain, "for we were boundfor Big Duck in the fust place. .. Cast off the line, Ed, andJimmy, I guess you can take her now. It's half-past six and I'mgoing below, and see if I've forgotten how to cook flap-jacks. "

Fifteen minutes later we were out of the river and crossing theBay once more, --this time toward Big Duck Island. A pleasing smellof flap-jacks began to come up from below. 

"There has been more doing in these three days, " said Ed Mason, "than usually happens in a month, "

"But the voyage has been tame and uneventful, " said Mr. Daddles, "compared with one my uncle made in these very parts, three yearsago. "

"What happened to him?"

"Why, he was one of the sixty-seven sole survivors of the famouswreck of the 'Hot Cross Bun'. "

"Where was she wrecked?" asked Jimmy. 

"On Pelican Point. "

"How many were drowned?"

"No one was drowned. That was the trouble. "

"Trouble?"

"Yes. They all got to hating each other so, and the food worried'em so much, that they used to wade out in batches every morningand TRY to drown themselves. It was the food mostly. You see the'Hot Cross Bun' was an excursion steamer, --like that one we justsaw at the wharf. She wasn't on an excursion this time, however, --she was making a regular trip between one of the islands in thisBay and the mainland. That's the charm of Broad Bay, --there areso many islands and towns that almost anything can happen. 

"Well, this steamboat had on board a miscellaneous lot ofpassengers, including a bird-study club, a fife and drum corps, and two scissors-grinders. It wasn't until the boat was wrecked ina thick fog, and they tried to exist on Pelican Point for fourdays, --foggy all the time--that they found out what it was goingto be like. The Point is cut off from the mainland in bad weather, you know. Well, they examined the food supply of the 'Hot CrossBun' and they found that it consisted of thirty-seven dozen sticksof pineapple chewing gum, four quarts of peanuts, (these went thevery first day), eight pounds of half-petrified Turkish Delight, six boxes of all-day-suckers, and about thirty thousand chocolatemice. 

"Now, all these things are very delightful when you're on dryland, and can have them now and then, so to speak. But PelicanPoint wasn't dry, and the food got awfully tiresome! Why, myuncle, --he's a bishop, and very regular in his habits--told me hegot so that he almost thought he wouldn't mind if he never saw achocolate mouse again as long as he lived!

"On the third day came the mutiny. The bird-study club had beencomplaining--"

Mr. Daddles paused. 

"Are you waiting for us, Captain?"

"The flap-jacks are ready, " said Captain Bannister, from below. 

"Why did they mutiny?" asked Spike. 

"After supper, " said Mr. Daddles, gravely, "I will conclude myaccount of the wreck of the 'Hot Cross Bun'. "