Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 503) (1887 03 15)
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a VP ™. a De Terr \ 4 A A NY \ =— ; yu rN aay AN 1 yy \ . S85 nn Ph edna ee: Pe Se STi] AN Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyright, 1887, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, March 15, 1887. Vol. XX $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, . . a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. The Shark ad the Sea-Cat, BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ MERLE, THE MUTINEER,” “ yon. TEZUMA, THE MERCILESS,” ETO., ETO, CHAPTER I. THE PLOTTERS. “ MATES, we don’t take the boy into account though we might have to fight the nigger, and i the old man suspects us, even if he is laid up with a broken leg, he'll be dangerous.” “ Well, I say wait ontil] midnight, end then let us seize the craft, for, as Mate ‘ae has told us he kin sell her to that pirate cap’n for a round sum, even if we don’t turn pirates ourselves.” “Then I say all right, too, mates, so call the Lis time for seizing the schooner, and I'll be on WITH A FLASH OF HIS RIFLE, A PIRATE FELL DEAD, AND A CRY OF TERROR AROSE hand.” FROM HIS OUTLAW COMRADES.
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9. The Royal Middy. 46 Count me another. ’ *¢ And me.” **['m with you, mates.” The above conversation was held on board a schooner that lay becalmed at sea. Not a breath of air stirred the waters, and the atmosphere was oppressive, as the craft rose and fell lazily uyon the swell of the ocean. The plotters were the crew of éhe vessel, and they lolled near the caboose, as they talked, and did not see a crouching form listening to their évery word. As they decided upon their lawless act, this spy crept away, and, unperceived, gained the cabin, carrying his stout shoes, Which he had taken off, in his hand. The schooner was one of those trim-built craft of a hundred tons, for which the seaports of New England were famous for building a hun- dred years ago. That. she was fleet, her model showed, while her tall masts were capable of spreading a, vast amount of canvas. It was several years prior to the breaking out of the Revolutionary War, and the schooner was one of the coasters plying between the New England ports and the West Indies. She was just returning with a cargo, and bound to Port- nd, when she was becalmed some fifty miles away from her destination. Her voyage had been an unfortunate one, in some respects, for the yellow fever had carried off several of her crew, and she had been forced to ship new men in the West Indies, and a hard lot they were. Then, in a gale a terrific sea had boarded the craft some ten days prior to the time when she is presented to the reader’s notice, and her skip- per had been dashed against the bulwarks with such: force that his leg was broken above the knee. The broken leg was set as well as it was possi- ble by those who knew nothing about such things, and the schooner continued on her cburse under her mate, the very man who was to lead the mutiny and seize the vessel, and who had laid his plans carefully until at last he de- cided upon the seizure of the pretty craft, The one who had overheard their plottin entered the cabin, and the light therein revealec that he was a boy scarcely over sixteeen years of age. The cabin was large, comfortably, though plainly furnished, and, when the youth entered it, contained two occupants, one of whom was the skipper, who lay upon a bed, his broken leg bandaged, and an air of anxiety resting up- on his face. He was a handsome man of fifty, with the iook of one who had been well reared, and who could occupy well a position in life above that of a captain of a trading schooner, The other occupant of the cabia was a negro, who lay upon the floor fast asleep and snoring vege et e latter however awoke as the youth entered, and yet the latter had made no sound. “Well, Mark, you look disturbed,” said the skipper to his son, who was strangely like his father; and a very handsome lad, with a form and carriage that were graceful and also denoted strength in a great degree. “+1 am disturbed, father, for as I told you be- fore that I suspected the crew were making trouble for us, I now am certain of it.” “You have made some discovery then?” “Yes, I overheard their plot, and it was to seize the schooner to-night, and the mate is at the head of it.” “And the crew are all with him?” “To a man, sir.” “J am sorry I did not let you act as mate, for you are full capable of it, Mark.” “‘T think I could have taken the schooner to port, sir, even after you were disabled; but let me tell you what I heard. ‘‘T was in the caboose when the mate called the crew about him, and told them of his plan. “Tt seems that he knows some pirate captain that saw this schooner and wanted her, and the mate shipped on board, with several of his men, just to seize her, “They did not win the three men over that we had until to-night, and now the seven are determined to seize the schooner. “They did not take me into account, they said, though they thought you might be danger- ous, even wounded as you are, and Charcoal they also feared.” ‘They fear me more, afore [ done wid em,” said Charcoal, who was the negro that had beer. aroused by the youth entering the cabin, and a splendid specimen of manhood he was, tall, broad shouldered, muscular and with a. face devoid of fear. ‘‘ Well, my son, we must fight them, said the skipper firmly. ** Of course, father, and it shall be done right here, for I will load your weapons for you, and then there is a cutlass apiece for Charcoal and myself, and a musket and a pistol for each of us. ‘* When they enter you will fire, and then Charcoal and myself will come out of the state- room and drive them on deck.” ‘“*Tt is our only plan, and they will not expect an attack, and the surprise will be half the battle, so load the weapons, Mark, and remem- ber that you are the commander in this affair, for I am next to useless.” = ‘‘Dem men is gwine ter git hurted, dey is, and it sarves em right,” said Charcoal, as he sat down quietly and began to look to the load- ing of his musket and pistol; and he added after finishing his task: ‘*T guesses I gits de whetstone and sharpens up the cutlasses, for dey sha’n’t be no play ght in dis business, Marse Mark.” Ten minutes after the three occupants of the cabin were ready for the mutineers, and sat in silence awaiting the hour for the uprising. CHAPTER I. THE MUTINY, Tue men of the schooner little dreamed that their plot was known; but, from the very first, Mark Montague had surprised them, as their faces belied them if they were bonest, There were but two pistols among the seven men, but all had knives, and they did not con- sider for an instant that the skipper, with his broken leg, his son, a mere boy, and a negro, could offer any resistance against their force. ‘¢ Remember, mates, we must kill the skipper and the boy, for we want no witnesses to turn up; but, as to the nigger, we will spare him, if he'll join us.” ‘Suppose we call him out and ask him,” suggested one of the men, “No, for if he didn’t join us, he’d tell the cap’n, or we'd have to xill him now, and that would make a row, and if the skipper got wind of what we was about, he would be a dangerous man, wounded though he is,” So they decided to wait until the time for them to begin their mutinous work, and then to march boldly into the cabin in force, and attack the skip er and his son, killing them botk. ‘* Marse, don’t show no mercy to dem vill’ins suah, for dey is to kill you and Marse Mark, and spar’ me, ef I jines’em. I jist heerd what dey said,” announced Charcoal, coming into the cabin from forward, where he had made bis way to the steerage and gotten near enough to hear the conversation of the scoundrels, The calm still continued, and the mate said: ‘We'll have no wind until sunrise, mates, un- less it comes on to blow a hurricane, which this air feels like, so we will seize the schooner soon~ er, and be ready for the tempest should it come.” When they felt that all were asleep in the cabin, they moved aft in a body, the mate lead- ing. They took off their shoes to make no sound, in the silence that was upon all in the deathlike calm, and descended the companionway into the cabin, The mate waited until his men were at his back, and ready for the rush upon the captain, who seemed to be calmly sleeping in the dim light, and then the word of command was upon the leader’s lips, when a flash and report came, and the mate dropped dead. The bullet of the skipper had pierced his brain. Instantly following the shot, there dashed out from a state-room door Mark Montague and Charcoal; their two muskets flashed together, and with deadly effect. ; The mutineers, taken by surprise, and with three of their number down in an instant of time, stood like men dazed. Then one called out: ‘Fire, and rush upon them, lads!” Their two pistols were fired, but were answer- ed by shots from Skipper Montague, his son and Charcoal; then there was a struggle for an in- stant, and a hurrying of feet, as the mutineers rushed pell-mell out of the cabin. Three of their number were dead, a fourth was seriously wounded, a fifth slightly, and the other two were glad to escape from the fire of the defenders, “Follow them, Charcoal!” cried Mark Mon- tague, and he bounded on in pursuit. Seeing him come upon deck, for the moon was shining rightly, the mutineers cried for quar- r. “ Into the hold, mutineers, or I show you no mercy!” cried the boy, advancing upon the men with his cutlass drawn. The mutineers were armed only with their knives, for they had fired off their pistols and had no time to reload them, while two of their number were wounded, one so seriously that he had sunk upon the deck, unable to stand. But they saw that the youth was alone, and believing that the negro had been killed, and knowing that the skipper was unable to po chd from his couch, they felt that it was yet posstble to seize the vessel. : All they needed was a leader, and one quickly resen himself in the person of an evil-faced paniard. “Kill the boy, mates, and the schooner is ours! Now, upon him with your knives!” shout- ed the Spanish mutineer. Mark Montague saw his danger. His pistol was not loaded, and three of the mutineers were now advancing upon him with knives drawn. He could retreat to the cabin and fight it out there, but he remembered to have seen Charcoal stagger at the fire upon them, and he believed that he was dead or too seriously wounded to cooen to his aid; so he made up his mind to fight there. Where the mutineers had expected to see the boy fly before them they were mistaken, for like a fash he was upon them, ‘Have at you, then, you wretches!” cried Mark, as he sprung to meet his foes, and with one sweeping blow of his cutlass brought the Spaniard tothe deck, and then leaped backward, and placing his back against the bulwarks, he stood at bay. ‘SHe is but a boy, mates!” cried another self- appointed leader, ‘‘ and we'll soon finish him(” “Will you join us, Master Mark, if we spare your life?’ asked the man, willing ,to com- promise, “No, but I will end this trouble right now!” cried Mark, and he rushed upon the three who confronted him. They broke before this attack and seizing cap- stan bars were preparing to rush upon him when there came a flash and a report from aft, and one of the three went down. “T am coming to your aid, my brave boy,” cried the ringing voice of the skipper, and using the musket he had just fired as a crutch, and pis- tol in hand, he came along the deck as well as he could with his broken leg. The mutineers at once cried for quarter, and, in obedience to the stern order of the brave youth, went below, carrying their seriously- wounded comrade with them. The hatch was at once closed over them, and made fast; then Mark turned to the aid of his father, who was leaning against the bulwarks for support. ‘Come, father, let me aid you back to the 4 -eabin, for there will be no more trouble now,” said Mark, and then he asked: ‘Is poor Charcoal dead, sir?” ‘* Alas, my boy, | fear he is, for he fell under their fire, and but for you the schooner would have been seized and our lives ended,” was the reply of the skipper, as he was almost carried in the strong arms of the youth back to the cabin. CHAPTER III. THE WRECK. A auap ery broke from both father and son, as they reached the cabin, to see suddenly ap- gl before them the tall form of the negro, as e rose from the cabin floor. He passed his band slowly over his forehead, and seeing that it was stained with blood, said, in his quaint way: “Lordy! is I dead?” ‘‘ We feared so, Charcoal, but I guess you are all right, though wounded,” answered Mark, as he was Biding his father to his couch. ‘“‘T guess I is, sah; but let me help yer,” and he started to do so, when he found that his left arm was powerless, ‘Lordy! I is hit two times, but I hain’t dead The skipper had now been placed in his bed again, and sunk back utterly exhausted, after his severe exertion, and Mark turned to Char- coal, who had tottered to a seat, for he seemed very weak and half-dazed. “This wound stunned you, Charcoal, for it glanced on your head, but I don’t think it is se- rious,” said the youth. as he felt the wound on the forehead carefully. “No, sah, I has got a hard head, I reckon; but I don’t like not usin’ this arm.” The woun arm was now examined, and Mark discovered that the bone was not broken, but the bullet had passed through the flesh above the elbow.
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ee Ce MP, a pee > eee eee” fF: The Royal Middy. It had touched the bone, and the shock had temporarily benumbed it, but no veins were severed, and the youth quickly, and with con- siderable skill dressed both wounds. ‘* Whar is the t’other ones, sah?” asked Char- coal, who began to feel all right again, and he pointed to the three dead mutineers. ‘¢ Two are dead on deck, and one of the others is wounded, Charcoal.” “Then thar is no danger, sah; but I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more, Marse Mark.” “You did your duty nobly, Charcoal, and father came to my aid on deck; but let us see if we can get these bodies out of the cabin.” Charcoal quietly stooped, and seizing one of the bodies with one hand, dragged it up the companionway, Mark following with another, ‘** ¥ou haven’t lost any of your great strength, Charcoal,” said the skipper, as the negro came back and grasped hold of the third body. **No, sah, I’m all right. But shall 1 kill the rest af them bad sailor-mans, sah?” ** No, Charcoal, for we can manage them now, and we will need ne to manage the schooner, for it feels to me like a storm was rising— hark!” As the skipper spoke, Mark called down the companionway: ‘* Ho, Charcoal, can you help me on deck, for we are going to have a blow?” ‘Ah! that I should be so crippled!” groaned the skipper, as the negro went on deck. As he glanced about him, Charcoal said: ** Lordy! dis looks mighty bad!” And it did, for thé whole skies were now over- cast, and coming down upon the schoouer was a mass of inky clouds that were driving the sea before them in a wall of foam. “*TIt is a fearful tempest, Charcoal, and those men must help us, or we go to the bottom,” and running forward, Mark threw open the hatch and called out: 2 ‘*Come on deck, would you save your lives!” “*T can help, Master Mark, but my mate here can do but little, for you hit him hard,” said one of the two men, ‘* He deserved what he got. But this is no time to talk, for Charcoal is also wounded, and ‘we must get the schooner ready to meet the storm.” But, work as they would, the tempest was upon them ere all was shipshape to meet it, and the schooner was seized by the fierce winds and tossed by the wild waters, until Mark Montague felt all was lost. But, with loud reports, her masts snapped off, the bowsprit followed, and the vessel righted, while the wreckage was torn from the schooner and hurled away off in the darkness on the wings of the tempest. ‘Charcoal! Charcoal! where are you?” shout- ed Mark, for in the blinding spray nothing could be seen. “ Here, sah!” came the answer from near-by. ** And the others?” ‘“‘T’m here, Master Mark, but my wounded mate is gone,” said the seaman, the last of the moutineers. For along time they clung to the bulwarks, unable to release their hold, and then Mark made his way to the cabin. f “Thank God! you are safe,” cried the skip- per, as the youth appeared before him. ‘© Yes, father, and Charcoal is also safe, along with the last one of the crew; but I fear the schooner is leaking badly, sir, and we will have to take to the life-boat.” “ Ah, my noble boy, you are destined to be a great sailor some day, for you know that death stares us in the face, and yet you are perfectly cool. : ** Well, Mark, I am in your hands, and you know what is best and will do it.” - The youth then left the cabin and sounding the pumps it was found that the schooner was indeed leaking badly and could not be kept afloat many hours. The tempest had come from off-shore, and the wreck had been driven many leagues before it out to sea. ; But Mark Montague did not despair, and he went to work to get the life-boat ready. It hung atthe stern davits and was not in- jured, where the quarter-boats had been torn away or damaged beyond repairs by the fury of the waves, Into the life-boat were placed some boards, and a comfortable place made for the captain, for bedding was plenty, Then water and provisions, a compass and a mast and sail with oars, anchor, and the valua- bles of the vessel were put in and stowed away. Among the last things put in was a bag of gold, of considerable value, sent by a West | Indian merchant to his family in Portland, and | It was the second night after leaving the Mark saw the eyes of Dent, the remaining sailor, glitter with avarice as they fell upon it, and he came to the conclusion that the man would bear watching, if he was all alone. The winds had now died away, and the sea was fast running down, so that Mark decided to leave the wreck, which was rapidly sinking. It was just at sunrise, when the seaman and the youth brought the skipper on deck and placed him in the life-boat, and the others soon followed. : Then the boat was lowered quickly and push- ed off, and just in time, for both Mark and Dent sprung to the oars and pulled for their blo as they beheld the wreck give a sudden urch, As it was the schooner sunk immediately, and the life-boat was nearly drawn into the’ whirl- pool made by her going down. ‘* A moment more and our lives would have ended there. Now we are now adrift upon the sea,” said the pg ieee calmly. ‘* Yes, father, but the life-boat is stanch and we will soon reach land,” was the cheery re- sponse of Mark Montague, CHAPTER IV. THE LAST OF THE MUTINEERS. Oncz the life-boat was alone upon the waters, Mark Montague took his bearings, and stepping the little mast, raised the small leg-of-mutton sail and headed shoreward. The skipper thought that they were a hundred miles fully off-shore, and with the wind fair would reach land within thirty-six hours, and at a point not very far from Portland. So Mark headed for the land, and Charcoal, whose wounded arm prevented him from doing other work, insisted upon steering, so the tiller was yielded to him. Carl Dent, the seaman had tried to be com- municative; but he found his efforts in that re- spect were not encouraged. The skipper answered him abruptly, and Mark at last said: ‘Dent, the least you can say to attract at- tention to yourself, the better, for I have not forgotten your having been very earnest as a mutineer awhile since,” ““T was forced to do what I did, Master Mark,” responded the man. ‘* No, you were not, for you could have sided with me when you saw that I needed your aid; but you did not. ‘*For your efforts to save the schooner, and your assistance since, I will not give you up as a mutineer, as I should do, on reaching port, but let you go your way. **But beware to give us no cause to change our intention in this respect.” “Tm going to do my duty, sir, as you may direct,” the man said with some respect. “Then begin by handing over the gold you took from the kits of your shipmates,” said Mark: ‘*T haven’t got—” “See here, Carl Dent, Charcoal saw you break open and reb each kit, and you got con- siderable gold, which you now have in a waist- coat under your shirt. “Tt does not belong to you, but to my father, for those men were mutineers on his vessel, and he has lost his ship by their mutiny. ‘* Off with that waist-coat, Dent.” “Some of it’s mine, and you wouldn’t rob me of that, would you?” When you came on board the schooner, I gax° you an English sovereign to spend, as you ad nothing, Mom told me, and wished to go ashore in our last port. ‘So all but that sovereign, and two others, which yqu shall have, you must give up.” ‘Your father don’t say so.” ‘“T say that my son is in command, Dent! ‘* He is skipper now, and you must obey him.” ‘You'll ruin me,” ‘No, for ‘di will be four sovereigns better off than when you shipped on board the pobOee, and in a port where you can easily get a berth. The man muttered an oath, but threw open his knit shirt and handed over quite a sum in gold, taken from various pockets in the waist- coat, which he bad put on. Mark gave him back four sovereigns, but he was sure that the man had not given up all, though he did not press him. The willingness with which the seaman seem- ed to yield, made him appear in a more suspi- cious light to Mark, who at once felt that he had made up his mind to some plot to get rid of them all in the boat, so that he should have the gold and valuables. wreck, that land was sighted, and glad were the hearts of those in the life-boat, The position of the skipper had been most | cramped and painful, and tossed about as the | boat was, he could not but suffer great ain, yet not a murmur came from his lips, and Char- coal also was uncomplaining. Their food had been scant, of dry bread and smoked meat, with a little water, and therefore with hope of life ahead they were naturally elated. The wind was blowing fresh, and the sea was running high, so Mark dared not attempt to run in until daylight, and so dropped anchor a quar- ter of a mile off-shore, so that all could get a good sleep, as they had had but little rest. The seaman, Carl Dent, took his place for- ward, alone, Charcoal being amidships, and the skipper and Mark aft. hus three of them went to sleep. sane fourth did not, and that one was Carl ent. He first took in the exact distance from the shore, and said to himself: “Tf I fail I can reach land, Iam sure, ButI must not fail.” Then he took in the position of those in the boat. The negro was snoring soundly, the skipper slept, and Mark also, rom beneath the seat forward, the seaman drew a pistol, and carefully examined the prim- ing and flint, filling the pan with fresh powder from the horn to make sure. : Next he took up a musket and carefully pre- pared that with dry powder. ‘“Now the negro first, with the pistol; then the boy with the musket, and I'll knock the skipper in the head. “Tt is but a moment and then I will be mas- ter here, and can readily tell the story how I am the only survivor.” So he mused, and, holding the musket restin across his arm, ready to fire quickly, he levele his ant at the head of Charcoal, took a slow, deliberate aim and pulled trigger. There came the click of the flint, as it struck the steel, then a flash in the pan: the pistol had missed fire. But the sound, slight as it was, aroused both Mark and Charcoal, and, as the mutineer tried to fire the musket, it was knocked from his hand by the tiller, which Mark had quickly seized. The musket exploded, but no harm was done, and seeing his failure meant his quick death, he plunged overboard into the sea. or a long time those in the boat watched for his coming to the surface, but he did not appear, and the skipper said: ‘* Well, Mark, there goes the last of our crew of cut-throats. So be it. He brought his death upon himself,” ‘“‘ If he is dead,” suggested Mark in nse, one a three once more sought the rest they n : CHAPTER V. THE EXILES HOME. _Upon the banks of the Kennebec River, that picturesque stream so full of romance, the birth- place of many a brave ship and daring pri- vateer, as well as seamen who would dare any danger, there still stand the ruins of a house that a hundred years ago was regarded with strange imterest and mystery by the humble denizens of that ion. It was said that when General Arnold ascend- ed the river, on his march with his army to Quebec, that a young officer was wounded in some mysterious way and left behind in the little tavern at Bath, Maine. Who the officer was no one knew, more than his name, and that was Henri Montague. If French, as was said, he certainly ke English without seeming accent, and yet of his antecedents he had nothing to say. He was said to have been wounded ina duel with a brother officer, whom he killed, but upon this subject too he was silent, though it was known that he had been one of a pres half a score to go down the river in a t one morning early. In the afternoon he had been brought back wounded, while another of the party was miss- ing, and a new-made grave at a t where thy landed, might have been proof that rumor was not wholly at fault. The officer, upon recovering from his wound, seemed in no baste to leave Bath, or to rejoim his command, wherever it was, He had money and paid liberally for what he got, and devoted his leisure to riding on horse 2
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4& The Royal Middy. back through the adjacent country, or running said, bitterly; but Mark overheard the remark up and down the river in a small sloop which he had purehased for his own use. One day a new freak seemed to strike him, and that *as to build him «a house, The pla’e selected was near the very spot where had been the meeting between the one he had killed, »s rumor had it, in a duel. The grave was on the hillside, and unmarked, save by the mosses that had overgrown it. The cabin the strange officer built was but a hundred yards away, and situated at a point that commanded a fine view of the river. A number of acres were taken in and cleared a most substantial cabin bome was erected, and then the strange officer disappeared. But within a few months he returned, and he was not alone, for he brought with him a young and beautiful wife. He came in a small sloop, which was loaded with household goods, and from that day Henri Montague became a dweller upon the shores of the Kennebec. To the surprise of the people, he began to run his —t, between Bath and Boston, which seemed show that he was not the rich man they had believed him. At his home he had three we servants, a man and his wife and their son, a boy of twelve, and so black that Skipper Montague christened him Charcoal, a name which his parents seemed rather proud of than otherwise, Those neighbors who sought to be friendly with the Montagues were not encouraged, and soon it became noised around that the strange officer was a French exile, a nobleman; but who, or what he really was, no one seemed to ow. Yet he soon became known as ‘ The Exile,” and ‘‘ Montague the Exile.” As time sed on, two children were born to the house oh Montagns, a daughter and a son, the former being two years the senior of the latter. As these grew old enough to go about, Char- coal became their devoted nurse, and he taught them to row, sail a boat, shoot a rifle and pistol, and to ride, for the Exile kept a couple of very fair horses, Taught by their mother all that was neces- sary for them to learn from books, in that early age, for Mrs, Montague was a woman of refine- ment and education, and instructed by their father and Charcoal in all athletic sports, the two children grew up to be well instructed, fear- less and skilled, and, at the early age of ten, Mark, the son, was wont to accompany his father on his coasting voyages. As he advanced in years, Mark was made mate of the little sloop, and then his father hay- ing prospered, a stanch and fine schooner was built, and longer voyages were made, extending at times to the West Indies. Had Captain Montague desired, he could have made money rapidly, running his schooner as a ket between the Kennebec ports and Boston; ut he seemed to shun people and never carriec a passenger, and this added to the belief of the ple in his being an exile, or one who sought to hide from his fellow-men. Seated on the porch of the comfortable cabin home one afternoon were Mrs. Montague and her daughter, Allene, a beautiful girl of seven- teen at the tine of which I write, They were watching with interest a schooner, one of the Kennebec packets, that was standing in toward their home as though to anchor. ‘* Mother, I see Mark upon her deck. Yes, and Charcoal; but where is father?” said Allene, anxiously. At her words Mrs. Montague turned deadly pale, and rising she walked quickly down toward the shore, her daughter accompanying her, and both of them dreading some sera Captain Montague had sailed away in bis own stanch craft, and what had happened they could only conjecture. CHAPTER VI. MARK TURNS SKIPPER, THE loss of the schooner was a severe blow to Captain Montague, for in it he had invested all his earnings for years, and he had paid for it in full, and had but little left, But the thought that ber husband and son had been red to her far more than compensated Mrs; Montague for any regret regarding the vesse The skipper had to be lifted ashore from the ket schooner and borne up to his cabin, for his was in a bad condition, from all he bad gone h, and the village doctor told him that he must lose it. “My poor wife and children will starve,” he » 2) pw LL i? pe aly ek kaa of OS | SERIE a and said quickly: ‘* Father, I can buy a shallop and with Char- coal and one seaman, can run cargoes to Boston and back, as you have told me that you did at first, and you need have no fear of starving.” Mark had proven himself so much of a man, so well able to take care of himself and those un- der him, that the skipper responded: ““T forgot, my son, that you are as good a sailor as f am. ‘*You carried the life-boat in safety to Port- land, where we caught the packet for home, where many a man would have failed to do so, ang you were devoted to poor Charcoal and my- self. “I will be acripple, I know, and can never command a oat again; but I can work at many things around here, while you will turn ye ' : But where is the money to buy the shal- op? :¢ You know I would not let that last mutineer steal the money left by his mates, and I find it was considerable, nearly a thousand dollars, and sister Allene and I have talked it over, and we can, with the little we have laid by, make up a thousand, and with that-sum in cash I can buy Judge Stanwood’s pleasure sloop which he has never used, “It will carry a good cargo and has fine ac- commodations for passengers, and there is more money in the latter than in freight, so I will do well, father, never fear.” “Tt do not doubt it, my son; but do not do anything yet; wait until Doctor Norcross has umputated my leg and see the result,” and it was evident that the skipper feared the effect. But Doctor Norcross was a skilled surgeon, having served in the British Army, and the operation was performed with skill, and the skipper soon stated to be out of danger, hough Mark had said nothing more to the villagers than that they had lost their schooner, Charcoal had not been backward, and he had told over and over again of the heroism of the youth, who at once found himself indeed a hero, Still it did not spoil him, the amount of praise showered upon him, and he set about his ar- rangements for getting the little sloop he had spoken of, in a way that showed he realized that the support of the family now devolved upon him. The yacht was a ac craft of thirty tons, and had been built by the great man of the vil- lage, Judge Stanwood, who was rich and all- powerful in the community. He had had the vessel built for his own use, to go at will between the Kennebec and the coast towns, and his son was to command her. But the son had entered upon a course that angered his father, and the pretty craft had never taken a cruise, other than her trial trip in which she had shown both speed and gc sea-going qualities. She had laid by for a year, and the judge had at last offered her for sale for a fourth of her value, but found no purchaser until one day Mark Montague walked up to Rock Hill, the handsome mansion of the Stanwoods, and asked to see the master. ‘* Well, my lad, I congratulate you upon your escape, for I have been told of your vessel’s loss and your heroism. **You are a brave boy, and I only wish my wayward, worthless son was half like you,” said the judge, as he entered the library and greeted Mark, whom he knew well by sight. ‘Thank you, sir, for your kind words; but I called to see if you would sell me the Sea- Cat?” ‘“‘ Sell you the Sea-Cat, my lad? “* Now, what do you want with a yacht?” ‘* My father has had his leg amputated, sir, and will not be able to go to sea again, and, as we are poor now, I must work for the family, and I can make a good living with the Sea-Cat, and I heard you would take a thousand dollars for her.” ‘Well, vou deserve credit, and you will suc- ceed, my word on it, and I will throw all the work I can in your way, for I'll sell you the yacht for one thousand dollars, though she cost me a trifle over four times that much.” “*T thank you, sir.” “ But are you not very young for a skipper?” “Yes, sir, but lam a good sailor, and father says he will trust me with a small vessel. ‘Here is the money, sir, in bank-notes, wr you give me a r, sir, won’t you, show the yacht is miney otis “Certainly, my boy,” and the_papers were drawn up and si.ned, and Mark Montague re- turned home a very bappy youth. rt) {1 apache 2 ina Ten days after, with the Sea-Cat painted up and in fine condition, and a crew of two lads about his own age, an old fisherman and Char- coal, the Sea-Cat set sail from Bath, bound to Boston, and to the delight of her young skipper, who was glad to see that people ousted him, he had a full cargo and passenger list, and brightly the future seemed opening before him, for, though a boy, he had suddenly found the duties of a man thrust upon him. But Mark Montague was not one te shrink any duty or danger he was called upon to face and soon became known as the Boy Skipper. CHAPTER VII. FOES AND FRIENDS. THE son for whom Judge Stanwood had baile the Sea-Cat was a young man of twenty-two at the time this story opens, In early life he promised well, and his father’s influence procured for him a middy’s berth in the Royal Navy. But after three years of service he came home in disgrace, caused by his reckless career as a young officer. His promise of reformation made his father do all in his power for him, and for a while he held to his good intentions, and the Sea-Cat was: built for his especial use. But ere she had made a second cruise, he en- tered once more upon his life of dissipation, and! his father had the craft laid up, determined not to intrust her to the care of ‘his reckless youth.. Haunting the village tavern, drinking and) gambling with a few wild spirits that were con- gehial, Merton Stanwood soon became toler- ated at home only under condition that he would never enter the house under the influence- of liquor. “His father had paid considerable money to keep him out of trouble on numerous occasions, and still Joved him, evil though he was. The household at Rock Hill, the name of the home of Judge Stanwood, consisted of the mas- ter, his wild son, and Lola, his beautiful little daughter of twelve, with a number of servants, and the mansion was pointed to with pride by the villagers, as being the finest in that part of the country. The day before the sailing of the “‘ fleet and seaworthy packet-yacht, Sea-Cat,” as Mark Montague advertised her, the young skipper was: walking up to the village from his home, when. he came suddenly upon Merton Stanwood and his sister Lola, on their way to Rock Hill, Mark knew that pretty little Lola was in the habit of capturing her brother whenever she found him in the village, and making him go home with her, and that she had a great deal of influence over him. Lola he had only known by sight, and Merton Stanwood he had several times met, and so he raised his cap politely as he was passing. Merton Stanwood was a very handsome man, compactly built, and it was said that in spite of his wild ways, half the girls in the town were in love with him. That he had been drinking his flushed face a gga and seeing Mark, he stopped short and. said: **So you are Mark Montague, the one the town fools are trying to make a hero of?” His words and manner were most insulting,. but Mark answered calmly: ““T am Mark Montague, Mr. Stanwood.” ‘The son of that mysterious exile?” Pa am the son of Captain Henri Montague,. sir. “ His life is full of mystery, and yours, too, for that matter.” ‘¢ For shame, brother, to insult the young gen-- tleman! . ‘*Come with me,” urged Lola, with spirit. ‘No, I wish a talk with this hero.” ‘Pray do not mind him Master Mark, for he- is not himself,” said Lola, with tears in her eyes. “T will say good-day, miss,” and Mark was. passing on, when Merton Stanwood sprung in front of him with the remark: “My father has let you have my yacht,” ‘“* He sold me the Sea-Cat, sir.” ‘Tt was robbery to take her at that price,” “She had been offered for sale for a year at that price, sir, and I gave what was asked.” ‘And I suppose you will follow in your father’s career with her, and turn smuggler?” Mark’s face flushed, and he replied hotly: “But for the presence of your sweet sister, Mr. Stanwood, I would resent that insult with: blow. a Rut I shall not forget it, sir.” “ Now is the time, my fine fellow, for I fear i? Hf a } «|
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ae asa ne ee Dictate, we ase ‘your memory will fail you,” was the sneering pry f je our sister’s presence is your safeguard, sir. ‘* Oh, sir, I pray yeu pass on,” cried Lola. Mark attempted to do so, when Merton Stan- wood placed himself firmly in his path. ‘They tell me you are as agile as a cat, and strong as a yvung lion, so let us square our differences here.” ‘*The quarrel is of your seeking, Mr. Stan- wood, and not mine.” ‘So be it, I will force it to a conclusion. “‘ Take that!” As he spoke he gaye Mark an unexpected slap in the face. moment after he lay his length upon the ground, as still as though the breath had left hus body. “Oh, sir! you have killed him!” came in piteous accents from the lips of Lola. ** No, miss, he is only stunned, and will soon come round. “‘T am sorry I struck him, but could not help it, when he slapped my face.” ‘“T do not blame you, sir; but see how still he lies, and how white he is,” and Lola spoke in a tone of horror. ‘*T will run to the river and bring my cap full of water. “Tt will revive him.” Mark bounded away and in a minute re- ‘turned, dashed the water into the face of uncon- scious man, and waited anxiously. ** He needs a little blood-letting, miss, for it will help him, and my father taught me how to do it,” and while Lola turned her face away, he bared the arm, selected a vein, and with the point of his sharp penknife made a small in- cision. As proof that Mark was right, that he needed bleeding, Merton Stanwood soon showed symp- toms oO ht aie consciousness, and ark hastily stenched the flow of blood, and bound up the slight wound with his handkerchief, while Lola looked on with anxiety about her brother, and admiration for the youth who had so easily Jaid Merton Stanwood prostrate, and shown so much skill and kindness in reviving him. The eyes of the young aristocrat opened and first rested upon his sister, while he asked in a bewildered way: ‘“ What is it all about, Lola?” ‘*You struck Master Mark, brother, and he knocked you down. “Then he revived you by a little blood- letting. . BS on will be friends now, wont you?” ‘No, we will be foes. ‘“‘ You have a hard fist, Master Mark Montague, but you must know that the Stanwoods never forgive an injury. ‘** We are foes, remember, and I shall bear it in mind,” ‘** And we are friends, sir, for I honor you for your kind act to my brother, after his insult to you,” and Lola stepped forward and gras fark’s hands, unheeding her brother's fierce words to come with him. ‘ And Mark walked lightly on his way, mus- ing to himself: — ‘ How forgiving and kind Lola was to me. ‘*T hope her brother will think better_of his quarrel with me; but he deserved what I gave him for his insult.” CHAPTER VIII. THE RESCUR. Tue first voyage of Mark Montague in the Sea-Cat was a perfect success, He had carried a good cargo, a full passenger list, and made wonderful time on the run to Boston, touching on the way at both Portland and Portsmouth. On his return he had come back with all the yacht could carry in hold and cabin, and caught ina fearful storm, he bad shown his skill by weathering it, and while several other craft of large tonnage, stood off and on off Seguin Island, not daring to venture into the narrow entrance to the Kennebec by night, he had boldly run in end landed his passengers at Bath soon after sunrise. This stamped the Boy ae rs as anable com- mander and skilled pilot, and from that day the passenger list of the Sea-Cat was kept full both going and coming, and Mark had the satisfac- tion of knowing that he was making a good liy- — for his parents and sister. ut like his father be was reserved, and no one had ever broken through the ice, so to speak, and become intimate with the boy com- mmander. ; He was ever polite, but no one could solve the The Royal Middy. secret of his father’s life, as many tried to do, for the interest in the exile and his family did not wane, as years went on, and Mark was soon put down as the ‘‘ Mysterious Boy Sailor.” One day as the Sea-Cat was returning from Boston, and coming up the river, the eye of her young commander detected a terrific squall coming down upon them. It was above his home, that the sloop was, andin sight of the town, and Mark had ob- served a small skiff crossing the river, bearing a single occupant. After stripping his vessel to meet the squall which certainly had an ugly look, Mark turned his gaze upon the little skiff. It was scudding for shore with all speed, yet a glance was sufficient to show that the wind- storm would strike it ere it reached a place of safety. [ A moment more and a cry broke from many on the Sea-Cat, as the squall swooped down upon the little skiff and seemed to fairly drag it beneath the waves, At the same instant a man was seen to run down to the shore, spring into a skiff and row out upon the river. Then the scene was shut out from the view of those on the sloop, and the care of the Boy Skip- per was needed for his own vessel. An instant more the squall struck the:Sea Cat with great force, sending showers of spray upon her decks, and causing her to reel under the blow, but under her storm-sails only she quickly recovered and went plowing across the river as she beat up toward the town, where many were gathered on the wharves, despite the tempest. watching with interest and anxiety the effect upon the little packet, and also the fate of the one in the skiff. _» After a few minutes’ duration, as suddenly as it had come, the storm swept over, and with the Sea.Cat in perfect trim, those on board turned their gaze in search of the skiff that had been upset, It was to be seen, drifting bottom upward, far away, and near where the storm had struck it was a boat, riding the rough waves at anchor. Then a cry arose as in the waters were dis- covered two persons, one supporting the other, and swimming toward the anchored boat. It was the man who had been seen going out to the rescue, and he had thrown over the anchor of his boat, plunged in and swam to the drowning one, and bravely risked his life to save that of another. As the sloop drew near the rescuer reached his boat, and, with an effort placed the form of the one he had saved within. It was the form of a woman, Then came from half a dozen voices, as the rescuer drew himself into the boat: **Tt is Merton Stanwood!” ‘* And he has saved my sister,” came from the lips of Mark Montague in a tone of joy and re- gret commingled. It was joy at Allene’s safety, and regret that she should owe her life to such a man. Luffing up sharp, Mark called out: “Ho, Mr. Stanwood, kindly bring my sister alongside, and I will care for her.” Merton Stanwood glanced at the speaker, then said quietly: **She has recovered from her swoon, sir, and I prefer to carry her to her home. *“Remember that my act does not change affairs between you and me.” Then he pulled rapidly away toward the Mon- tague home, distant over a mile, while Mark held on toward the town. In the mean time Merton Stanwood pulled rapidly toward the home of the young girl wore he a saved, “I trust your ducking will not give you cold madam,” he said in a polite whee : ‘ “Oh, no, sir; but it was most brave and generous of you to come to my rescue. ‘J should not have left the other shore, where I had any to see the sick wife of a poor fisher- man, but thought I could get across before the storm broke. ‘“T owe you my life, Mr. Stanwood, and that I am grateful you must know.” ‘‘T saw your danger and went to your aid. ‘“-Your boat was tossed into the air, fairly, and I feared you were killed.” *“‘T felt the shock, and the wind and waves heating in my face seemed to stun me, so that I eould not s vim. ; ‘Then | felt you seize me, though I could not help myself. ‘God bless you, Mr. Stanwood,” and the mere came into the beautiful eyes of the young girl, He made no reply for a moment, and then said: ‘“‘ Yonder drifts your boat, and you can send after it. : ** But I suppose you know that your brother is no friend of mine? “*T have only heard him say that hé was sorry for you.” > “T care not for his pity; but did he not tell you of our meeting?” : “* He has told me nothing.” ‘ ‘‘Humph! The boy is close-mouthed, then ; but let me say that there is no frien¢ship lost be- tween us. ‘* Here we are at your home. “Good-by, and having seen’ you, Allene Montague, L tell you flatly we shall meet again, whether a guest is ever allowed at your house or not. ‘‘Again, good-by, and remember Merton Stanwood, for he shall not forget your sweet face.” Allene held out her hand, but the man did not take it; and springing ashore on the rocks, she turned to see nin row rapidly away. Pulling to the fisherman’s cot, where he had taken the boat, he made it fast once more, and stexpee on foot up over the hills toward his ome. As he reached the highway he came full upo» a estrian, walking rapidly along. t was Mark Montague. CHAPTER IX. met unr ys “ Mr, STanwoon, atcept my hand in friend- ship, sir, after your noble act in saving my sis- ter from death. ‘‘T hurried away as soon as I landed, hoping to find you at my home.” Such was the manner in which Mark Monta- gue met Merton Stanwood, when the two came as ee in the highway. n response to the manly greeting, Merton Stanwood in an insulting manner at the outstretched hand, and then said: “T told you, Master Mark Montague, that what I did to rescue your sister, did not alter my feeling toward you.” ‘**T was in hopes that it would, for your noble act has greatly changed my feeling toward you, sir. ‘*T prefer your hatred.” r You refuse that we shall be friends, then?” do. “Tam par fl “Tam glad.” ‘ Good-afternoon, sir.” Mark was passing on when the young profli- gate called out: ‘“« My sister is not with me to-day, Mark Mon- tague, to protect you.” ‘To protect me?” ae Yes.” ** How, pray? **From a whipping at my hands.” ‘Tf I remember aright, sir, her presence pro- tected you, for you deserved more than I gave you. ‘Ha! this to me?” ** And why not?” ‘** A low-born dog thus address a gentleman?” As he spoke, Merton Stanw advanced quickly after the youth. Mark turned at once. ““Mr. Stanwood, your sister protected you from a sound drubbing once, and that you have but now saved my sister from death, protects ou. me I beg you to let matters rest as they are.” “Boy, you are insolent, and I shall punisb ou. % ‘*Come, up with your hands, for I mean to whip you!” As he spoke, Merton Stanwood sprung to- ward Mark. He was taller, larger than the youth, and he was noted for his strength and hard blows. That Mark had knocked him down upon a former occasion, he had deemed an accident, being wholly unprepared for what he did not expect. ow he was ready for a fray, in which he should teach Mark a lesson. All drenched as he was, he preferred that time to another, when witnesses might be pres- ent, Not that he feared the consequences of a bat- tle between them, though Mark was. known to be a youth far above the average of one of his years; but he preferred to feel of his prowess when alone. ‘So he walked up to the scratch, ready for bat- tle. JNA
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6 ee a ae be . The Royal Middy. Mark had been well taught by his father, both in the science of boxing and fencing. He had a bright eye, cool head and nerve of iron, and he knew his remarkable strength. Even though opposed to a man, and that man | reckless Merton Stanwood, he did not quail, and the smile never left his lips. : ‘* Now, boy, take your punishment like a man, and then keep clear of my path. ** Here’s at you!” As he spoke Merton Stanwood dealt a severe blow that was meant for the face of the youth. It failed to reach there, being caught on the arm of Mark, who at the same instant sent out his left fist with a stinging blow upon the fore- head of his enemy. Maddened by it Merton Stanwood dealt blow after blow most savagely, all of which were neatly parried, while several of Mark’s found a lodging-place upon the face and chest of his enemy. Merton Stanwood knew that he was being whipped at his own game, His nose was bleeding, his lips and brow were cut, there were several lumps rising elsewhere upon his face, and one eye would be soon encir- cled by a bruised ring. He had not yet hurt his enemy, and the smile upon the youth’s face drove him almost to frenzy. So he made another desperate assault, and dropping the science of boxing, sought to grasp Mark in his arms and hurl him to the ground. But Mark nimbly avoided him, raining blows meanwhile upon him that fairly staggered him, and Merton Stanwood was forced to draw off for an instant. ‘¢ Curse you, boy, I will have your life!” Suddenly he uttered the words, and drawing a dirk from his breast pocket, he sprung toward Mark. At that instant the youth’s eye fell upon the stout stick which he had thrown down, to greet Merton Stanwood upon meeting him, and seizing it, he dealt a blow upon the: uplifted arm that caused it to fall, and the dirk.to drop to the ground. : Then he sprung forward, and giving Stanwood a blow in the face with his fist, picked up the dirk and sent it flying off in the thicket, as far as he could throw it. Merton Stanwood reeled under the blow, his arm seemed benumbed by the force with which it had been struck by the stick, and he had sense enough to see that Mark Montague was master of the situation. ‘“‘You have beaten me fairly, Master Mark, and I own up. ‘* Let us be friends.” He held out his hand, and Mark, too generous in his nature to suspect his proffered friendship, accepted the offered truce. “Let me look to your hurts, Mr. Stanwood,” he said. ‘* No, I will go home. ** Good-by, Gonimana.” was the abrupt re- sponse, and Merton Stanwood walked off. But he quickly turned and said: ** Master Mark?” ‘‘ Well, Mr. Stanwood?” ‘Let us not speak to any one of our quarrel ” to-day. Certainly not, sir, for I would rather have it so.” Then Stanwood walked briskly on toward Rock Hill, while Mark went home and congratulated his sister upon her rescue, speaking in the high- est terms of his late foe. Upon returning to his vessel, however, he learned that a servant from Rock Hill had been boasting of the bravery of young Master Mer- ton in saving the exile’s daughter, and how he had been struck in the face and severely hurt on the arm by the boat beating him in the face. “Tf that is his story of his injuries, let it be so,” muttered Mark; with a smile, and he caressed his right hand, which was sore from the pounding it had given Merton Stanwood, CHAPTER X. THE SMUGGLERS. In a secluded cove on the coast of Maine, sev- eral months after the rescue of Allene Monta- gue by Merton Stanwood, a vessel lay at an- chor, ’ To outward appearances she was a Coaster from some of the seaports eastward. But a close survey of her fine lines showed that she was built with the double view of great and seeraoing qualities, . She was very sharp forward, and high, was low amidships, and had a narrow, swallow-tail tM stern that rose some distance over the water, as was common in boats of those days, Her rig was that of a schooner, and her masts were very tall, her bowsprit very long, showing that she could pile on the canvas if needed, in a great degree. Not a soul was visible upon her decks, but on a rocky shelf jutting out from the rugged shore, and some forty feet from the water, were a group of men. They were a wild-looking set, and seamen, all of them, from their appearance. Behind them arose a cliff of rock, and to one gazing at them from the water, it would be wondered how they got there, for no means were visible, and certainly there was no path- way leading around the cliff, and to scale 16 would be impossible, as it towered sixty feet above their heads, Bebind the men, however, the secret could be discovered by a keen eye, for a sail, painted soas to resemble the face of the cliff, was hung over the entrance to a large cavern. This cavern was their home when ashore, and the storehouse for their booty, for the men were smugglers. The cabin ran back into the hills, into the midst of a pine thicket, two hundred feet away, and here was its land entrance. To reach the ship from the sea, the schooner was drawn alongside of the rock, in quiet weather, for there was ample depth of water, and a board was brought from the cavern and run out to the cross-trees. The men on the rocky shelf numbered a score, and they were all armed, Though no foe was near them they talked in the low tone of men accustomed to have their lives in deadly peril at all times. From the Canadas to Dangerland Soundsit was known that these were determined and dar- ing smugglers, men who were considered in fact coast freebooters as well, when an unarm- ed vessel fell in their way, but where their haunts were no one could tell, and the islands, not the mainland, were generally sought as their hiding-place. Suddenly the canvas curtain over the entrance to the cavern was dashed to one side, and a man appeared, whose coming caused a murmur of coon pleasure from the group upon the rocky shelf. The stranger was a man who was attired as a sea captain of that age, and had a frank, man- ly face, though he was none other than the leader of the smugglers, He was a young man, the youngest of the lot, hardly over twenty-four, and his appearance indicated that he had been well born and reared in a better manner than his comrades. Still he was none other than an outlaw, and one whose daring deeds had defied detection and capture, ; e@ was known among his men as Captain Caspar, and the coasters looked upon him as nothing better than a pirate, and called him Caspar the Corsair. ‘* Well, lads, we must get on board, for there is work ahead of us, and [ think the haul will be a rich one,” he said in a free and easy manner that seemed natural to him. ‘“*T have just returned from meeting one who has given me a chance to seize a craft that will be most useful to us, ‘““We gave her achase once, but the wind was light and the sea smooth, so she held her own; but we will go prepared to take her this time, ‘She will be our prize, with what cargo she has on board; but she is to bring out a few kegs of gold, I am told, and that I have pledged to keep for another, the one who gives me the in- formation. ‘We may have to fight, for her skipper is one to defend his craft; but we will take her any- how, as there will not be a dozen men on board, I am sure, including passengers. “* Now lads, get on board, and when the Shark returns to her anchorage, I hope she will have with her the Sea-Cat as a prize.” “Ts it the packet yacht Sea-Cat, Captain Caspar, that you mean?” asked one of the crew. ‘“* Yes, Bruiser Bill, it is.” ‘“‘ She is commanded by a boy.” “Ty have heard her skipper was a mere uth. He'll fight you, tooth and nail.” * Let him, we can capture her.” ot Be prepared to have her outrun us too, cap- in. ‘* Nonsense, she can never outsail the Shark,” “T sailed in her, captain, the first cruise she made, and she picked up everything she went oo KR sss sees — “ a mA for, from a clipper-ship out of Portland, to the pink-sterned Mealiops along the coast, and they sail well.” ‘*T have confidence in the Shark catching anything afloat, Bruiser Bill,” replied Captain Caspar; but the man, who was mate of the Shark, shook his head dubiously, and muttered: “The Shark is fast, but somehow I think the Sea-Cat is faster. ‘“* But we-will see who is right when we run across her,” CHAPTER XI. SIGHTING THE SHARK. 8 popular had the Sea-Cat become that all who had to voyage by sea between the Kenne- bec ports, Portland, Portsmouth and Boston, referred to go as passengers on her to taking 9 vessels, o matter what the weather, Mark Montague went in and out of port, day or night, and he seemed to be fairly endowed with instinct in finding his way through dangers. The state-rooms of the yacht were large, the table was good, for Charcoal was an excellent cook, and’ Mark took pride in furnishing bis pas- sengers with the best that the markets had, His father had taken two trips with him, and took pride in his brave young boy’s work as a skipper. Then his mother had gone on one voyage, and Allene on another, and though Mark was a boy at home, on his deck he was every inch a man and a skillful seaman and they could not but so regard him. He had been compelled to increase hig crew, having besides old Buntline, who was his right- hand man and mate, and Charcoal as cook, two cabin-boys, who at odd times helped as: sailors, and two more lads who were regularly shipped as seamen, ne day, as he was about to get up sail for the run out of Boston Harbor, Merton Stan- wood came hastily down to the wharf and sprung on board. Between him and Mark, since their combat, there had been apparent friendship, though the young skipper was not at all enthusiastic in his admiration of Stanwood. Merton Stanwood had reformed, so it was: said, and yet people shook their heads when they heard of his reformation, He seemed to have a great liking for Mark and had called upon Allene at her home, some time after saving Tad life. But, though Captain Montague and his wife were full of gratitude, they did not encourage his visits, and he had not dared call again, gh as he sprung on board the -Cat he said: “Just in time, Mark; but if you have not a berth for me, I will bunk in with the crew.” Mark was sorry he had come, He had one berth in the cabin and told him so; but then, his sister Allene was on board, and he half-suspected that Stanwood had come on the Sea-Cat for that reason, as he had gone to Bos- ton some weeks before, he knew, by stage. He paid his passage-money, threw his little carpet-bag in his berth, and made himself at home by at once walking up to Allene and ad- dressing her, She knew how Mark felt toward the youn profligate, and her face colored; but she coul not be rude to the man who had saved her life, and she would not be, even if it angered her brother. As the Sea-Cat sailed out of the harbor the sun was setting, and the evening was a delight- em one, so that all of the passengers were om eck. Among his passengers Mark had four females, and ine rag Merton Stanwood, seven males, which, with his sister, himself and crew made: nineteen souls on board, He had also a valuable cargo, and, what was more, @ couple of iron-bound kegs of gold, which had been sent by his Boston agent to Judge Stanwood. The judge had asked Mark to bring him the gold, and told him he had better keep it a secret, so that it had been stowed away in the cabin the night before, and Charcoal alone knew of its be- ing on board, besides the young ski; per, excepting: Allene, in whose state-room it had been put. As there were several thousands of dollars im the kegs, Mark was anxious, for he knew that freebooters on the coast were often met with. But he depended upon the Sea-Cat, as he had never yet met with a craft that could catch her. The moon rose as the sun went down, and af~ ter supper the passengers came on deck to enjoy
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| ean fight him off,” was the cool reply of the wee The Royal Middy. though fresh. Allene had her Spanish guitar, a present from Mark, and possessed of a fine voice, she sung bing songs, Merton Stanwood joining her in uets, Then he played and sang, and in spite of his dislike for him, Mark could not but think he had a superb voice. And Allene seemed to think so too, for she kept asking him to sing again and again. “Sail, ho!” The ery from forward caused a silence upon deck. The yacht was now running free, and making ten knots an hour, and the sail was sighted off her starboard bow and heading so as to cross either ahead or astern of her. Mark took his glass and examined her closely. * Buntline?” ‘Well, Master Mark.” **Do you remember the schooner that chased us two months ago, and which we outfooted, though she held her own well with us?” ** Ay ay, sir.” “That is the same craft.” ‘* She looked ugly then, sir.” ‘Yes, and one of our passengers thought she was the smuggler, or freebooter, commanded by Caspar.” ‘¢ Yes, and like as not she is, but if we dropped her once we can again.” ‘*T hope so, Buntline; but the wind is much stronger to-night, and there is a lumpy sea, and her larger hull will go through it better. ‘* Still we will try and give her a wide berth, and if it comes to a chase, do our best.” ‘Tf it should be the Shark, Master Mark, she ean’t carry over twenty men, sir, even if she did overhaul us.” ** And you mean we could fight them off?” “Ves,” ‘* Of course, for we have just fourteen men, including the crew, and I carry, you know, some boxes of muskets and ammunition, for the fort at Augusta, and I would break them open and arm all on board.” ‘*You’ve got the grit, Master Mark, to do it, but see, sir, the schooner is certainty head- ing toward us.” ‘Yes, so we will change our course and run out to sea.” The order was promptly given, and almost instantly, following the schooner’s course was changed, and it at once became a chase. “That craft is the smuggler schooner, Shark, Skipper Montague,” said an old mer- chant who was a passenger on the Sea-Cat. “So I thought, Mr. Hastings.” “‘T know her well, for she has chased packets Ihave been in several times, and once robbed me of a thousand dollars in stock. | ‘He is called a smuggler, but is more of a corsair.” ‘Well, Mr. Hastings, he has no heavy guns on board, and if we cannot outrun him we young skipper. CHAPTER XII. THE SEA-CAT AND THE SHARK. WHEN the smuggler craft was sighted from the Sea-Cat, she was ve dently been lying under being seen. As soon as she set sail she was discovered to windward of the Sea-Cat, and not more than a mile away. When the sloop changed her course, it brought the Shark upon her weather quarter, and the schooner came down under a clond of canvas. The sloop sailed well, but in that lumpy sea and stiff breeze, could not set her-topsail; Gone the schooner gained on her.” ; The Shark had both topsails set, and seemed to fairly fly through the waters, her larger hull taking the lumpy seas better than the Sea-Cat. “I'm loaded a trifle too heavy, and the schoon- er will catch us,” said Mark, quietly, addressing Buntline and Charcoal. ’ ‘Yes, sir, we are loaded down in the head: but if the sea was not so frisky, and we had this wind, we could outstep the schooner,” de- clared Buntline, confidently; ‘‘but, as all is against us, we must prepare to fight.” “Charcoal, go down in the hold and open several of those boxes of muskets, and bring them on deck, We want two apiece, and the ammunition you can put in the cabin under my sister’s charge.” ‘“* Yas, sah.” “You do not intend to fight, Mark?” asked Merton Stanwood, coming forward. “Yes, certainly.” near, and had evi- are poles, to avoid the beauty of the night, for the wind was balmy, ** Tt will be madness.” ‘*Tt shall be madness then, for I shall beat those fellows off.” ‘*Tf it is the Shark, I have heard she carries thirty men.” “Tt is the Shark, Mr. Stanwood.” ‘t And you have but seven.” ‘*Tn erew, yes; but there are seven male pas- sengers on board.” ‘* Ah! you count on our help, then?’ Certainly I do!” **T admire your pluck, and count me in; but I fear for the others,” ‘*The man on this craft who refuses to help will be a coward, and I shall put him in the hold until I reach port,” was the prompt reply. Mark then went aft, and calling the passen- gers about him, said: ‘*T am sorry to tell you, that yonder ‘schooner is the freebooter known as the Shark. She has no heavy guns on board, but carries about thirty men, and she will try and capture us. Weare fourteen men, and I have some Government muskets on board, three each, if need be, and my sister can load them, as we empty them, and the other ladies will help her I know; so I pro- pose to fight. ‘*T have a valuable cargo, and several times have heard that Caspar tbe Corsair, who com- mands yonder schooner, wants this vessel. ‘*Tf we were differently loaded we could out- run the schooner, but as it is I hope tobe able to fight her off, andevery man on board will help me.” © ‘* Well said, Master Mark, and the one who does not isnot a man,” responded the old mer- chant, Mr. Hastings. The muskets, bright and new, were now brought out of the fold, sixty in number, and taking them to the cabin, they were quickly loaded. Then, as it would be a stern chase, Mark had some bales of cloth brought on deck, and ar- ranged with boards so as to form a kreastwork, across the yacht aft, four feet high, so as to protect the marksmen, He divided his defencers into two parties of five, who were to do the firing, one party falling back after a volley, and the other taking its place. Of the remaining four he put three to looking after the sailing of the sloop, while he was free to have an eye upon his vessel and its defend- rs. When all was ready the schooner was within range, and down on the wind came the hail: oy arg ahoy!” ‘*Ahoy the schooner!” responded Mark, through his trumpet, for he had to send his voice against the wind. ‘* What sloop is that?” “The Sea-Cat of the Kennebec. What schooner is that?” “The Shark!” ‘* The freebooter?”’ “Tf you will have it so.” “Then keep off, or I will fire into you,” pluckily called out Mark. A derisive laugh from the schooner was the response, and Merton Stanwood said, in a low tone: ‘*T fear you are doing wrong, Mark, to resist, for you may anger them, while, otherwise, they would only take your cargo, and no one would blame you for giving up.” “Tf th get this cargo, Mr. Stanwood, it will be affer a hard fight. ‘Ready there, all of you, with your mus- kets, for I will make the first volley a heavy one. After that fire by fives, as planned.” The ten men with he ve were ranged in line, and Mark and Allene also held weapons. “* Ready alll Take aim—fire/” cried the Boy ae ith the words the muskets flashed forth flame and lead, Cries from the schooner, and her suddenly sweeping half up into the wind showed that it was a complete surprise to the freebooters, Then howls and curses arose, savage threats were uttered. and the schooner came on in chase. “Fire by squads now, and take careful aim,” coolly commanded Mark, an order which the defenders of the sloop obeyed promptly, five heavy musket balls were hurled right among the freebooter crew. There came answering shots from the schooner, while the order was distinctly h eard: “ Get up that gure from the hold, and e train it upon those devils!” The order seemed to momentarily demoralize the Sea-Cat crew. Seeing this, Mark Montague came quickly to the rescue, Is He had one yrrnt long-range deer-rifle on board, and with this he determined to go up into the main cross-trees and open on those on the deck of the schooner, ‘Keep her headed as she is, and I will see if Icannot keep them from using the gun,” he said, as composedly as if the daring act was not one of exceeding danger. Then he took his rifle, and strapping it to his back, went aloft. An instant he stood there, gazing through his glass at the schooner. He was somewhat protected by the mast, and the furled topsail, and fearing that he might be wounded, he tied himself firmly in position, Then he called out: ** Ho, the deck!” “ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Buntline. ‘*Keep up a steady and well-aimed fire on the schooner, and I believe you can drive her crew to shelter; while I can pick off men from here. Every shot will bring its man!” and bracing himself well, he took deliberate aim at the group around the open hatch on the Shark, and pulled trigger, With the flash of his rifle a pirate fell dead, and a cry of terror arose from his outlaw com- rades, CHAPTER XIII. THE ESCAPE, Havine found that his rifle would reach his foes, and observing them scatter, Mark -loaded and fired rapidly, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the men hunt cover from his shots. He called down to the deck to continue firing rapidly, which they did, and the outlaws being now within easy range of the schooner, the free- booters dared not expose themselves on their decks, but crowding forward under the bul- warks, returned the fire. But for the foresight of Mark Montague in raising the breastwork across the stern, a num- ber on the Sea-Cat would have been killed, or wounded, As it was but two had been hurt, and they but slightly. Seeing that the Shark still slowly but steadily . Mark decided upon a plan to bring her 0. The pirates had discovered his presence very quickly in the top, and began to fire on him rapidly, realizing that he held the most deadly weapon. About him their bullets pattered, chippin the mast, and cutting into the tightly furled sail; but so far he had remained unhurt. “Tf I can keep a man from the wheel, she will have to come to,” said the young skip- per as he raised his rifle and took deliberate aim at the helmsman. It was some time before he could fire, as he wished to be certain of his aim. Then he was anxious to guard himself from the bullets pattering about him. At last he drew trigger. With the crack of his rifle the helmsman sprung to one side, re- leasing the tiller, and then bounded, or fell down the companionway into the cabin, but which Mark could not tell. The schooner, freed from the guidance of her rudder, ran up into the wind, almost before another man reached the helm. But almost as soon as he got there Mark had his rifle loaded and ready. A moment to secure perfect aim, and at the flash of the young skippers’ rifle, the helms- man fell across the tiller, his hands clutching wildly at the air. The schooner swayed from her course, a stern voice ordered another man to the helm, and once more Mark reloaded his rifle. Hardly had the third helmsman placed his hand upon the tiller, when he released his hold and sprung for the cabin, for the rifle-bullet had shattered his hand, Then the schooner swept up into the wind, for no one cared to come under that deadly aim, Seeing that his men refused, Captain Caspar himself ran to the helm, and ordered his men to their posts. ‘* Keep up a rapid fire! Shoot every one who leaves cover!” The order came from Mark aloft, and the firing of the sloop was rapidly kept up, and the pirates were driven back to cover, In the mean time Mark Montague had re- loaded his rifle and was taking deliberate aim at the daring chief, who held the tiller of his vessel, while he shouted loudly and sternly to his men, to obey his orders and go te the sheet ropes. But no one obeyed, with that leaden hail
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a 8 from the sloop pattering along the decks, and the captain also deserted the wheel, as he felt a tingling sensation in his shoulder which told him. that the deadly marksman in the cross-trees of the sloop was in earnest that no one should hold the helm of the Shark. As the schooner now lay to the sloop slipped rapidly away from her. nstantly Mark came down from the rigging, and his words stirred the crew to action. “They will get out of range, rig up a barrier to protect the helmsman and get that cannon up out of the hold. ‘‘Then they will give chase again. “ Quick, all of you! let us get the extra cargo aft so as to trim ship, and set topsails, even if it does blow, and I believe we can outrun him.” All sprung to obey excepting Merton Stan- ‘wood, who said: ‘* He has given up the chase, so what is the use of this extra work, Mark?” ‘‘ He has not given it up, nor will Captain Caspar do:so as ng, Pa he has hope. ‘* Please aid us, Mr. Stanwood, for this is a time when all should do their duty. ‘‘ Here, sister Allene, you take the helm and work up to windward of the schooner while you can Allene sprung to the tiller, for she well knew how to manage a boat, but seeing that blood was upon the hand of her brother, she cried auxiously: ‘¢ Oh Mark! you are wounded!” ‘¢ It is but a scratch on the arm, sister. ‘* Now we must all work.” The men’ already had the forward hatches open and were hauling out the cargo forward, which had given the sloop such a bad trim as to hurt her sailing. It was hastily carrieda ft and placed wherever needed most, and all worked like beavers. The change was soon made manifest in the improved sailing of the Sea-Cat, and then Mark ordered the topsails set. It was okay 4 pretty fresh, and the sloop having changed her course meanwhile, and shot up to windward of the schooner, she lay well over under the pressure of the wind. But with one of the lady passengers to help her at the tiller, Allene kept her on her way until Charcoal came to relieve her of the strain. ‘‘ T tell yer, Missy Allene I doesn’t see how yer c’u’d hold ther craft as yer did, fer she pulls pow- erful bard,” said Charcoal, as he took the tiller. ‘It was hard work, Coal, but we did it,” replied Allene, rubbing her blistered hands. ith the sloop now in proper trim, and as he intended to hold on his present course to- ward Portsmouth, where he was to touch, Mark had his people haul freight to windward, and all hands also went up close under the weather bulwark, which helped amazingly to keep the yacht on a more level keel, against the pressure of the wind on the large amount of can- vas\she was carrying. That his young foe had gotten the best of him and run to windward, while he was arrangin to protect his crew in another effort to cate him, Captain Ca*per well knew. But the schooner had shown her superiority of sailing before in the chase, and he did not doubt but that he could overhaul her long before she reached Portsmouth. The wind also seemed to be growing stronger, and he hoped the sloop would not able to carry her topsails, while he knew that the schooner could do so. Then, no longer under fire, his men were hast- ily getting from its Liding-place in the hold, the six-pounder that the smuggler kept for an occasion of need, along with one other, which could be used in beating off a boat attack. The schooner was pierced for guns, but had never carried them on her deck, as Captain Caspar was more often wont to masquerade as an honest coasting craft than an outlaw, When at last a barricade of hatches was erected in front of the helmsman, to guard him against the deadly fire from the top of the sloop and the gun was gotten upon deck and ready for firing, the sloop was over half a mile away and going like a race-horse. The schooner then gave chase, and soon from her bows flashed the six-pounder, But the shot flew wild, and it did not take Captain Caspar very lorg to discover that he was not gaining upon the sloop. What could it mean? Not knowing of the shift in her cargo, he could not answer that question; but it soon dawned upon him that the sloop, in spite of the increasing wind, and sea growing rougher, was keeping her pace steadily ahead of his fleet schooner. A 4 NE TS Ce ea The Royal Middy. He saw the sloop’s topsail taken in, and still he did not gain, for the change seemed to improve her sailing, while she did not keel over to such a dangerous angle as before. All the time his six-pounder kept up a hot fire on the little packet, and now and then a shot was seen to cut through her sail, and once it was thought to have torn along her deck. But the Sea-Cat held on and at last, as he feared he might get himself into trouble, in be- ing off-shore at daylight chasing a sloop, he was forced to give up the chase, while the Sea-Cat went flying along, all on board happy at her escape, CHAPTER XIV. THE SEA-CAT’S RETURN. WueEn the Sea-Cat ran into Portsmouth her appearance indicated that she had been through a severe ordeal. , She had become well known in port, and her Boy Skipper was a hero already in the thoughts of the people of the town, But when the passengers had told the story of their escape, Mark Montague was look upon as a marvel, and when he came down the street to the wharf, to board his vessel and again put to sea, for he had gone to report his being chased to the authorities, he wascheered by the large crowd that had gathered to look upon the packet. ThesSea-Cat had by no means escaped un- scathed, any more than had her crew. One of those on? board, a passenger from Ports- mouth, had been killed by the fire of the schoon- er, the shot that had torn along ber decks, and fired by the six-pounder. Then several others had been slightly wounded, among the latter being her daring young skip- per, who had been clipped on the arm by a bul- et, the wound, however, being but slight. Through the huge sail of the Sea-Cat several holes showed where the solid shot had cut through, and the stern and mast were peppered with musket balls, the barrier having caught nearly a hundred. Again the Sea-Cat set sail, and running out well to sea, saw nothing of her enemy, and ran into Portland.in safety. Arriving within several leagues of the mouth of the Kennebec, by day, Mark sighted a sail far off, which he knew to be the Shark, and the bold outlaw tried to cut him off from entering the river. It was wholly a question of speed now; but when in Portland the sloop had been put in per- fect trim, her sails patched, and she showed her verry seiling qualities by running under the shelter of Seguin Island, and thence into the mouth of the river, while the schooner was yet a mile away. The disappointed schooner fired’a shot from her six- pounder, which fell short, and then: hauled off, going seaward under full sail, while the Sea-Cat held on ber way up to Bath, and was greeted by tremendous cheering from the crowds that gathered to receive her, for the stage from Portland had arrived, and the escape of the packet from the pirate had already been > at and Mark’s heroism was upon every ip. Among the first to grasp his hand 4 3 his ar- rival was Judge Stanwood, who had been most anxious about the safety of the packet, knowing that she brought a large amount of gold for him. ‘“My boy, you are a hero indeed, and I owe you my heartfelt thanks, and wish to reward you in any way that you may name.” ““My reward, Judge Stanwood, was in doing my duty, and it is the only one I care for or will accept.’ ““ Well said, lad; but some day I will reward you as you deserve. ‘* What say you to a middy’s berth in the Roy- al Navy?” ‘I should like it, sir, above all things, for I believe I am ambitious to rise higher than a skipper’s berth on a coasting craft.” “*T will go with you to Boston soon, and apply for the berth for you. “« But how did my boy behave?” ‘‘ Like all the rest, sir; be did his duty, though I do not think he had much confidence in our es- eaping capture,” * And you?” ° ‘“T felt that we had the means to beat the pirate off, and should use them. shes § broke open two cases of the Government’s guns, but they served us well, and otherwise our capture would have been almost certain.” “They are for Major Deering at the fort?” ‘* Yes, sir.” “ He will be glad to know that you used them for he is a fine fellow and admires pluck. —_FE_FETEET_FTFeFEe “When will you take them to him?” “As soon as I get my other cargo, out, sir, I will run down to the fort and discharge what I have for Major Deering; but I wish I could get permission to carry a couple of small guns anda score cf muskets, if Iam to expect trouble from coast pirates. ‘That can be arranged, Mark, and I will see to it. Ah! here is my little daughter Lola, come to congratulate you upon your heroism.” As the judge spoke, Lola came on board the Sea-Cat and frankly offered her hand to the young skipper, while she said in her pretty ie ‘*T had to come too, Master Mark, to shake ——— with you, and see the scars on your ves- sel. ‘¢ You were not much hurt, I hope?” ‘No, thank you, Miss Lola, T wely ot a scratch; but one passenger was killed, and two of our brave defenders slightly wounded; but I see my sister is waiting for me to go home, so I will say good-by,” and Mark doffed his tarpaulin and went into the skiff alongside, where Allene was already seated, with her purchases, and Charcoal had the oars. Leaving Buntline in charge of the sloop, Mark and Allene were rowed rapidly home by Charcoal, and were met at the landing by Cap- tain Montague on his crutches, Mrs. Montague and Abram and Chlve the parents of the brave negro man who so bravely and faithfully fol- lowed the fortunes of his young master. ‘* Uncle” Abram, as all called him, had been up to the town and heard the news, and as the sloop had sailed by, Mark and Allene had seen their parents waving to them, and now, the greeting they received was one of great joy and affection, ‘*My brave boy, you will yet make your name known the world over,” said the exile, impressively. “Sister deserves as much credit as 1 do, father, for she cares no more for bullets than she does for rain,” was Mark’s rejoinder in his sister’s well-earned praise. CHAPTER XV. THE SECRET MEETING. SEVERAL days after the arrival of the Sea- Cat in port, after her escape from the Shark, she set sail again for Boston, and there was considerable anxiety felt regarding her safety on the voyage, as it was supposed that she ae again be chased by the pirate schooner. t that time there was no cruiser upon the coast, but a request for one had been forwarded to the representatives of the king in Boston, and it was hoped that there would be a vessel- of-war sent to cruise between the Penobscot and Portsmouth, where there was most danger of coasters falling in with freebooters, Still the danger of the cruise did not deter the young skipper from sailing, and he went off with a large cargo and a cabin full of passen- ers, running out of the river, as was his wont, in the night time. Standing upon a high eminence, gazing down upon the dark river, dotted only by the white sail of the Sea-Cat as she was gliding seaward, was aman who had long stood watching aud waiting there. : At times he grew impatient, paced to and fro, and muttered words in a tone of anger. At last his eyes fell upon a form approaching from the town, and he said abruptly: “Tt is time, for I am tired out with waiting.” The spot where he stood was a cliff overbang- ing the river, and some hundred yards away from the highway leading to the town. The one Who was approaching came from the highway, along a path that branched off to- ward the cliff. “Well, captain, I thought you would never come,” said the one who had been waiting, and he advanced toward the new-comer. ‘¢T came as soon as I dared leave the tavern. oT have to be cereful, you know, as there are people in the town who know me,” said the other, “Yes, and you should wear @ disguise that no one could penetrate. ‘But our plan was a failure.” “Tt was, and through no fault of either yours or mine,” “TI did my duty, for I told you what a valua- ble cargo the sloop was to bring out on that run, and that there was also some good picking among the passengers, while the performance of the Sea-Cat shows that she would have been a valuable prize for you for your work.” ‘She will be, for I shall yet catch ber: but I heard how she was loaded down in the head and could not sail at first, and that her skipper skift- ed her cargo to suit him, ‘£ : ‘ q N
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f | . 4 , { aN aye anes le tn 3 4 = a LDR i re ml age nt neha | = , , The Royal Middy. **T tell you, shipmate, that youth will make an admiral of himself some day.” “Tf his life is not cut short, yes.” ‘Why, he handled his craft splendidly, and I tell you frankly I suffered more than I wished to and not meet with success,” ‘* You had some of your crew killed?” “‘Two, and ten wounded, though one only Seriously. ‘* They rained upon us a hot shower of lead, I tell you, and when young Skipper Montague took to picking off my helmsmen from the cross- trees he had things his own way. ‘‘T felt sure of overhauling the sloop, so did not get under way again until I had my barrier up before the helmsman, and my gun mounted for use. ‘Then I discovered that the sloop was outsail- ing me,” . ‘Yes, after she was trimmed aright.” ** But I learn that Judge Stanwood had over four thousand in gold in his kegs?” ** So I believe.” ‘*So you doubtless knew when you arranged with me that you should have them, when I caught the sloop.” “The sloop and her cargo, with the pickings from the ngers, were worth far more.” *¢-Yes, but I would not wish to see an inform- ant get as much as you would have had, with my capture of the sloop, and I can make no more such terms with you.” “Then there is no need of our talking business, for I shall not work for less than my price.” ** And your price?” ‘One-third of the value of your capture.” * Leaving two-thirds for my crew and my- self?” iT Yes. ” **T will not give it.” ** All right, there are others who will.” ‘* What others?” **You are not the only freebooter upon this coast, Captain Caspar.” ‘‘There are others, I admit; but I hold the greater power, and I shall continue to do so.” ‘** Let us not quarrel, for I can be more useful to you, than can you be tome, but I have my terms, and if not satisfactory reflise them, and perhaps another time we can agree on other matters.” ‘*] wish that I knew just who you are.” “That has nothing to do with the matter, Captain Caspar.” “You know me as I am. “Yes, but you are an outlaw.” “ And you?” *‘ Tt matters not who or what I am. “*T have the means of placing in your hands information from time to time, that will enrich us both, and also ek you clear of cruisers. ** This is risky work, meeting you here, and I will have a place of meeting down the river, where you can send a boat once a week for in- formation. “‘ There is a place known as the Tower Rock, and just near it is a mae tree in which letters or packages can be placed. “Have your messenger deposit a letter for me there each week, and t will place one there for you, with full information. ** Now say whether it is to be thirds between us, and a third for your crew, on all you get tarough me? ‘“‘Tf not, I will know just what to do.” **Tcan but agree to your terms; but am I not to know you by some name?” ‘* Why need you?” ‘ How shall I address you by letter?” ‘Call me simply Spy, and expect a letter in the place I refer to on Sunday next,” vy will go there, or send, as you direct.” *‘Good-night,” and with this the stranger turned and walked away in the darkness, leav- ay Captain Caspar standing alone and gazing after him. ‘“‘T must know who that man is, for I will not be served by one whom I have no hold upon. **T will follow him.” f So saying the freebooter captain took from a small hand-bag he carried, several articles, and in a few moments he was completely disguised as an old man with long gray hair and beard, Then he started off on the track of his mys- terious comrade, CHAPTER XVI. A CRUISER IN PERIL. THE Sea-Cat was on her outward run for Bos- ton. Mark Montague was at the helm, and the pretty craft was stripped for a storm, for there was ugly weather outside, As she neared the mouth of the river there broke on the ears of those on board the sound of heavy firing, and it grew louder and louder. “What can it mean, Master Mark?” asked old Buntline, while the passengers, aroused by the firing and the pitching of the sloop, as she neared the sea, came on deck in some alarm. “Tt can mean but one thing, Buntline,” an- swered Mark. ‘** You mean a sea-fight, sir?” ee Yes. ” ‘*Between a Frenchman and a_ king's cruiser?” ‘* Certainly, and they seem to be coming this way, as the guns sound louder and louder,’ he night was very dark, and a southeast storm raging outside made the entrance to the river a very chaos of wild waters, and only a daring pilot would venture out. **You will go out, Master Mark?” asked one of the passengers anxiously. ‘*Oh, yes, for we can make it.” ‘* Better lie in the river until daylight.” ts No, I wish to see what that firing is out- side. So Mark headed on the port tack to run as close under Seguin Island as possible, and then on the starboard tack to push out into the open sea, The sloop had only storm-sails set, and was all ready for the struggle. She bounded over the wild waters in splendid a her topmast housed, and every man at his pos All realized that it was a dangerous run the young skipper was making, but they had confi- dence in their commander, and said nothing. As they shot out from under the shadow of Seguin’s Haven cliffs they came in view of a thrilling scene. There, not a league away, was a sloop-of-war, as her flashing guus showed her to be, flying be- fore al huge line-of-battle ship that was in hot pursuit, She was English, and kept up a rapid fire from her stern oo though in that rough sea it was accident if she was able to do any dam- age to her foe. The line-of-battle ship was also firing rapidly upon her enemy, and had her in a very perilous position, She was driving her directly upon a lee-shore, and at one of the most dangerous parts of all that rugged coast. If she had a pilot, she might run into the Ken- nebec, where her pursuer dare not follow; but if not, she must go about and surrender, and both beat away from the dread danger they were nearing. Mark gave the helm to Charcoal and turned his glass upon the heel and pursuer. He saw that the British vessel must strike her colors very quickly, if she did not have a pilot on board, or she would be too near to readily beat off from the coast. “That craft has no pilot, Coal, I am sure, from the way she steers.” ‘* She goin’ ter be cotched then, Marse Mark,” ‘*T will signal her and ask if sbe needs aid.” The lanterns were brought, a rocket was sent up from the sloop, and then the signal was made. Instantly a reply came that she needed a pilot to save her from the Frenchman, Mark sprung to the helm and at once put the sloop on her course to cross the bow of the En- glish vessel. “My God, young man, you will lose your ves- Sel and destroy us all,” cried one of the pas- sengers, . Will risk the loss of the vessel, sir, to save a king's cruiser from og aes or going to pieces on this coast,” was the firm reply. L ery out against your desperate act, boy, and I will not permit it, for I will see that the passengers do not,” ‘Hold! if you dare interfere with me, Mr. Patterson, on my own vessel, I will put you m irons and confine you in the hold.” There was no mistaking that Mark meant to im * he said; but the passenger seemed not to ear it. He was a merchant of wealth in Bath, and a pompous individual, who was feared by those under him as much as a martinet in the army is dreaded by his soldiers, That any indignity would be offered to him he could not believe, and the other passengers on board hardly thought Mark meant what he said, though his crew knew better. ‘You will put me in irons?” cried the mer- chant, in a furious tone, “T will, sir, and quickly, unless you go to the cabin and stop interfering with me, for the safety of all on board shall not be jeopardized y you.’ ‘*Hal you shall see, young man, that Reuben Patterson has his way when he wishes it, and I will at once take charge of this craft myself, oR are unfit, as being something of a sailor, and—” “Charcoal! Buntline! put that gentleman in irons and carry him into the cabin, as I do not wish to open the hatches to send him below.” Mr. Reuben Patterson had not expected such treatment, and was wholly unprepared for it, and, before he knew it, irons were upon his wrists, and, powerless in the grasp of Charcoal = old Buntline, he was hustled below in a jiffy. If others among the passengers were going to interfere, not relishing Mark’s bold act in run- ning under the fire of a ship of-the-line to save the cruiser, the fate of Mr. Patterson deterred them from doing so. The cruiser was now heading toward the sloop, or in such a way as wouh bring them near together at the earliest possible moment. The Frenchman had discovered the Sea-Cat, and expecting a pilot to be on board, to save the chase, opened fire upon the little craft to try and destroy her. The iron shot fell about her, but none touched her, and seeing that she was rapidly mn the cruiser, the Frenchman yawed from his course and sent a terrific broad- side flying toward the Sea-Cat. One shot cut through the bulwark, another just chipped the mast, a third carried aed the starboard boat and a fourth tore the jib slight- ly; but not one did material damage, while ascore of the deadly missiles flew over and about the little vessel. But Mark’s hand on the tiller never flinched, and he still held on his course. “You cannot board in this wild sea, Mark,” said a nger, who was watching the bold youth with the dee interest. “Yes, sir, I can do so I think.” ** But how?” ‘*T shall drift in my life-boat directly in the course of the cruiser, and let them pick me up as they go by. ‘* Stand ready, Buntline, to take the tiller, and Charcoal put a red and blue light in either end of the life skiff and made them fast on oars.” With this order Mark relinquished the tiller to old Buntline, with a few low-spoken instruc- tions as to what he wished him to do. CHAPTER XVII. A DARING PILOT. THE negro hastily obeyed the order of his young master, and a red and a blue lantern were hastily but firmly made fast in the bow and stern of the life-boat. Then Mark sprung into the boat, the crew of the sloop lowered away and the daring young sailor was left dancing in the wake of the Sea- at. The life-boat seemed fairly thrown about upon the waters, from wave to wave; but Mark crouched amidships, and the stanch little shell was not harmed. The moment that the life-boat was left in the wake of the Sea-Cat, Buntline put the craft on the starboard tack, and then, with only the jib set, wore around before the gale and went flying back toward the mouth of the Kennebec, every light doused on board, that she should no longer be a target for the fire of the large ship-of-war. As he had calculated, Mark was at once sight- ad by those on board the cruiser, and the lights being the guide of the commander, the flying vessel was headed toward the boat, Nearer and nearer it came, while the former kept up his hot fire, and men stood ready with eee to throw the daring pilot as they swept y. The commander of the cruiser realized the full danger of the pilot, and the fate of his ves- sel should accident befall him. So he steered on a course that would carry him to the life-boat, so that he might luff sharp, leaving it under his lee, and then iti that instant the ropes could be thrown and the pilot drawn on board. 5 He explained to his officers and helmsmen just what he meant to do, and several of the former volunteered to throw the ropes themselves. The sloop was now nearly half a mile ake d Mark saw; as he glanced landward and behe d her indistinctly running for the southerly point of Seguin Island. The cruiser was almost upon him, and a mile away, still firing, rapidly and Viciously, was the line-of-battle ship,
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10 The Royal Middy. The storm-clouds were black and threatening, the night was dark, and the winds were flying furiously over the wild waters. His life-bout was half-full of water, but the lanterns still remained lighted in their close cases, and he knew that the next few minutes would tell the success or failure of his bold plan to board the English vessel in the storm and save her, A moment more and he heard the loud order of the cruiser’s commander to his helmsmen. Then the bows of the cruiser changed their course, the life-boat was under her lee, just as it seemed that she must be run down, and then the boy tpn heard the thrilling words: “ Now cast your lines, and draw that daring pilot on board the vessel he risks his life to save!” The lines were cast, and Mark grasped -one, and almost instantly the life-boat was dragged to the side of the cruiser. Then willing hands seized him and he was ulled on board, while the vessel, not having ost headway, swept on leaving the life-boat toss- ing about upon the waves, he commander had been the first to grasp Mark’s hand, and, as the lanterns flashed in the face of the young pilot, he cried: ‘“‘ Why you are but a boy! but if you have skill equal to your pluck, I have no fear for my vessel, ‘* T will run her into the Kennebec, sir.” ‘She is in your hands, my brave lad, and there is hope for us in the moment of despair, for, but for your coming out I should have put back howard my foe and struck my colors. “Come to the wheel with me, if you dare at- tempt to run in in such a blow.” ‘Oh, yes, sir, I can run in without trouble,” was the confident reply. As Mark went aft, he stepped up to the helms- men and told them how to steer. The pursuer was now firing more rapidly, and shot were flying about their heads, but none were very disastrous to vessel or crew, as good aim could not be taken, Wark observed that the cruiser was a fine craft, about a fourth of the size of her pur- suer, and that there was a large group of of- ficers in cloaks standing on the quarter-decks. To one of these the captain said: ““My Lord Admiral, we are in the hands of this brave young pilot. now, sir, and I have confidence that be will save us.” “And I, after his daring in boarding as he d. “Save this vessel from capture, or destruc- tion, my fine fellow. and you shall wear an epaulet,” returned the officer who had been ad- dressed as admiral. Mark’s heart bounded with joy, for, unless the cruiser was crippled by the fire of the enemy, he felt no uneasiness as to his not win- mins the promised prize. e had brought his own speaking trumpet with him, and it hung by a cord to his belt, and he said quietly: “Tt is a bad place, sir, to run into the river, with the wind southeast and blowing a gale, and the tide running out, so I will take a stand in the weather fore rigging, and give my orders how to steer.” “You know best, and I will take the mizzen shrouds to pass your orders to the helmsmen,” cried the captain, and he sprung into the po- sition while Mark went forward and took his stand in the foremast shrouds. Soon came an order from his lips, without the aid of his trumpet, and so clear and ring- ing was his voice, that the captain did not have to repeat it, the helmsmen hearing distinctly and calling back the command as they obeyed it. CHAPTER XVIII. WINNING AN EPAULET. TuHaT there were moat anxious hearts upon the deck of the English vessel-of-war, can wel be imagined. The night was a black one, the waves ran furiously, the winds howled savagely, and astern of them was a huge foe firing upon them with rapidity, and determination to de- stroy them. They had sighted that foe early in the night, and the large Frenchman had proven a fast sailer, and held well on to them. To fight him would have been sheer madness, pg hem was but one course to pursue—run or i The Frenchman was to windward, and a storm coming on, and he cut the English vessel off from escape up or down the coast, and the cruiser could only fly toward the mhospitable shores as though to seek a haven there. = ee The British vessel was just from England, and her destination was Boston, but a gale had blown her to the northward, and she had no coast age on board. If she could find one, by running in-shore, she could esca her enemy, and her commander headed boldly in, knowing well the danger, but hoping that the Frenchman, believing him to have a pilot, would give up the chase and put away. On board the British craft was an admiral and his staff, and she further carried a most valuable cargo of small-arms for the troops in the Colonies, so that her loss would be a great one, and her captain was determined to do all in his power to save her from capture, even to risking destruction by wreck, The coming on board, therefore, of Mark Montague gave hope to hearts that were about despairing. rom his position in the shrouds, Mark kept issuing his orders rapidly, and in a tone that showed he knew the danger of the vessel and ex- pected prompt obedience. With the wind on her port-quarter, the cruiser flew along, only under her storm-sails. Then she shot by Seguin, and Mark could no- where discover the sloop, so knew that Buntline had run her into a haven in the river. Then the cruiser’s bows wore round until she was pointed before the gale, and went driving furiously along. Passing in under the cliffs of Seguin Island and so close as to cause all on board to hold their breath, her sails caught the gale from star- board, and soon after she went swiftly flying into the the river, and ell gave a sigh of relief as the daring young pilot sprung from the shrouds and walked aft, I will run you up to Bath, sir, if you wish, or to the place where my sloop is anchored, for I am bound to Boston, but, sighting you, went to your aid,” said Mark, addressing the captain, who grasped his hand, while be said: ‘“T am also bound to Boston, my lad, and will be glad to set sail for there to-morrow, if you will put us out to sea again, for I suppose our foe has stood away, now that we are safe. ‘‘ But let me say that I owe to you more than I can repay in gratitude, though you have but to name your price as a monetary debt, and it shall be hen you.” ““[f did not serve you for money, sir, but to do my duty, and I will not take pay.” ‘* What is your name, may I ask?” ‘* Mark Montague, sir.” ‘You are a dweller on this coast, surely, or you could not do what you have just dorie?’ ‘Yes, sir, 1 was born on the banks of the river.” ‘* A seaman?” ‘*T am skipper, sir, of a small packet-sloop, plying between this river and Boston.” **-You are the master?” ** Yes, sir.” “A youthful captain, surely.” ‘“‘ My father lost his vessel, sir, and an injury deprived him of one of his legs, so that I had to work to support the -reaoey “‘ Well done, my brave lad,” said the admiral who had stood near and overheard all that had been said. ‘Here is the anchorage, sir, so you can let your anchor go,” said swept into a little cove, where the Sea-Cat was already lying. ‘** And that is your sloop?” asked the captain, when the cruiser had come to an anchor. “Yes, sir, and I will go on board now, sir, if you please.” “But I wish to run out with the dawn, my fine fellow. ‘* Well, sir, I will come on board and pilot you out then.” “And I will have the price of your life boat ready for you, as it was lost for us, and you must let me pay for it.” “Thank you, sir, and, as I am not very rich, I will allow you to do that.” “ And you will not accept a reward for your gallant services in money?” ‘No, sir, under no consideration,” and Mark hailed the sloop and told Charcoal to come for m. Soon after he went on board the sloop, and as he left the side of the cruiser the crew gave hi a tremendous cheer. ; Upon reaching the Sea-Cat old Buntline said with enthusiasm: ‘That was the grandest act I ever seen done, Master Mark, and no man that I knows would ever have tried it. “You should have a commission for saving that king’s craft.” ing ee ene a ee shake ODL 1 CPM Tie ae pete ter a pees BS aa ay RES Pee a 32 OR ark, as the cruiser | ‘“‘T hope to get a middy’s berth, good Bunt- line, though humanity as well as ambition prompted the act, ‘Now go down and bring Mr. Patterson on deck.” ‘Oh! but he is mad.” ‘T do not care, for he should know that two men can never command one craft.” In a few moments Buntline came on deck, ac- companied by the irate merchant. ‘Boy, you have done that this night which will cost you dear,” cried Reuben Patterson. ‘Mr. Patterson, I but did my duty, and that which I would do with any man who interfered with me in my duty. ‘*T sent for you to release you of your irons, and to say that if you did not care to continue on in my vessel, I will have Charcoal take you up to Bath. “Tf you remain, sir, you have got to under- stand that I will allow no interference,” The merchant quailed before the determined air of the boy. He knew that the cruiser had been saved by Mark’s courage alone, and he felt assured that he would not put up with his insults. He was anxious to reach Buston in haste, and he knew of no quicker way of going than in the sloop. So he said: ‘“‘T can only do as you demand, young man, as you hold the power to force me to do as you wish. ‘¢T will go on in the schooner, which you can sail to suit yourself; but I will not forget the in- sult and humiliation you have put upon me to- night.” *T do not ask yeu to forgive or forget, Mr. Patterson, if you prefer to bear malice. “But you should understand that I am re- sponsible for my vessel, and let me do my own way. - Buntline, take off the irons from Mr. Patter- son.” The order was obeyed and then Mark sought his berth, for he was wet and tired after what he had passed through. With the early dawn he awoke, and soon after went on board the cruiser. The sea was running high, there was still a stiff breeze, but the storm had blown itself out, The captain of the war-vessel invited him to join him at an early breakfast, and then the cruiser got under way, with Mark at the helm, and passed safeiy out to sea, the Sea-Cat follow- ing in her wake. The French vessel was nowhere visible, end the course was ordered to be laid for Boston, as soon as the young pilot should go on board kis sloop. The Sea-Cat then ran near and lay to, while the life-boat was lowered from the cruiser, and ‘all was ready to take Mark on board his craft, when the admiral appeared on deck. “* My brave youth, I desire to hand you this aper, which makes you a midshipman in the ing’s navy, for the services you have ren- dered.” As he spoke he handed to Mark an official- looking document. pyre was deeply moved, but said, as he raised is cap: “T am glad, sir, to feel that you deem me worthy of the honor you bestow, and I hope to prove your confidence has not been mis- placed. : : “fT thank you, sir, and you also, Captain Vane,” and he turned to the commander of the vessel, who said promptly, addressing an officer near: “Mr. Roe, give this young officer a salute with the guns, as he leaves the ship.” As the guns roared forth in his honor, Mark Montague’s heart swelled with pride, and his eyes flashed as he boarded his oie ‘Very fine, very fine, boy, but I won't forget you,” sneered Reuben Patterson. But Mark heeded not his words, and dipping his flag to the cruiser he held on his way, taking the tiller himself, for once more he was “Skipper Mark,” though he had won an epaulet. CHAPTER XIX. MARK MAKES A VISIT, THe first thing that Mark Montague did, upon his arrival in Portland, was to write a letter to his father, to send back by stage, telling of his prospects for the future. Then, after touching at Portsmouth, he ran for Boston, making a very quick voyage of it. The British cruiser was already in port. and the news of her having been pees | by the young Se ee ee ed ao
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The Royal Middy. skipper of the Sea-Cat, gained for him a grand reception as the pretty sloop swept into the harbor and alongside of her wharf. Mr. Patterson went ashore, grim and threat- ening, saying that he would return by another packet, or by stage, and was glad to wipe the dust of tha Sea-Cat from his feet. He threatened all sorts of things, but Mark seemed wholly indifferent to them. Having attended to his duties as master of a vessel, Mark dressed himself in his best and went up to see the naval representative of the king, carrying with him the official document which the admiral had given him. That distinguished personage happened to be at that time visiting the port admiral when Mark’s name was brought in. “Tt’s the very youth I was telling you about, commodore,” said the admiral. “TI will have him come in at once, for I have a curiosity to see the plucky fellow. ** He isa Yankee of course.” “ Without doubt.” ‘*T wish our English youths were more ready to distinguish themselves, than they are, for these Yankees go right ahead of them. ‘¢ Why I could fill our ships with these Ameri- can lads as middies, if I bok them on pluck and skill alone, ‘* But it isa dangerous precedent to set, for I tell you, my lord, there is sure to be war_be- tween this land and the mother country, and we don’t wish to nurse in our navy too many young vipers to sting us, for all will go with their loved Yankee land.” “‘T think you are right, commodore, and I fear me there will be trouble soon. ‘* But this lad saved acruiser for his Majesty, either from capture or destruction, and he de- serves the berth I gave him.” ‘Most surely, my lord—ah! here he is.” Mark just then entered and the admiral greet- = him kindly, presenting him to the commo- ore. **T have heard of you before, Master Monta- e, for you are the daring young fellow who ought oft the freebooter Caspar, when he at- tempted to take your vessel.” Yes, sir, 1 happened to have on board a lot of arms for the fort on the Kennebec, and so made use of them. ‘“*But for that, sir, I would have lost my vessel,” modestly replied Mark. ‘*No, sir, you would not, Iam sure, for you had the nerve to defend her, and I learn that your own rifle, which you went alcft to fire, picked off the helmsman of the pirate, and thus you saved your craft, while your freight, in making a barrier astern protected your people. “T have reported it, Master Montague, and am happy to congratulate you eo our latter achievement in which you saved the admiral here, and his vessel.” “Thank -you, sir, but that was my luck in hepRering, out to sea that night.” : “You are modest, my lad; but I wish some of our young officers had your luck, as you call it, ‘* Now tell me, was not your name in the pa- pers about a year ago, regarding the loss of your father’s vessel, and you putting down a ay ‘* Well, sir, we lost our crew from fever, in the West Indies, and shipped strange men, who it seems wanted to seize the schooner and sell her to a pirate chief, ‘‘T overheard their plot, so was able to coun- teract it, that was all, sir,” ‘“‘ Now, admiral, let me beg you to note the extreme modesty of this young skipper, for here is the report of the affair, taken down by one of my Officers from the lips of this youth’s father. ; ‘J will read it to you,” and the commodore read the statement of Henri Montague, Kenne- bec, skipper of merchant schooner, of the whole affair when he lost his vessel, and the part that Mark had played in it. ““Why, my dear lad, that alone should have gotten you a middy’s berth in the king’s navy, while certainly the saving of your sloop when gue was another d worthy of an epau- et. “Now this third affair, where I owe you so much of gratitude, proves that you do not in- tend to remain at a standstill, but push on up the ladder of promotion,” said the admiral, “*I hope to deserve promotion, sir, for I am ambitious to rise,” ‘Well said, but suppose your land has war with the mother country, and you are an offi- cer under the king?” oo the admiral and com- modore :ooked fixedly at the youth. ! Mark dropped his eyes for an instant, and his face flushed. Then he looked up and said boldly: ‘*T was born in America, sir, and if our peo- ple went to war against the English, I would | resign from the king’s navy and offer my ser- | vices to the American Government.” There was silence for a moment, and the com- modore and admiral looked at each other. Then the latter said: ‘“My boy, I pray there will be no war, but I honor you for your frank speech, and I wish you or success as an officer of the king.” ‘“‘Thank you, sir; but I came to see the com- modore and ask him about the time I should report for duty, sir, as you gave me no orders.” ** Whenever you wish, Master Montague,” said the commodore. ‘‘T am the only support of my parents and sister, sir, and I am anxious to leave the little | sloop in competent hands to still earn a living for them, while I wished to say that’I thought it possible to render a service in the Sea-Cat, before I gave her up, for I formed a little plot I would like to make known to you, sir, with your permission.” “Out with it, Midshipman Montague, and I | warrant me you have a daring plot formed-in that busy brain of yours,” said the commodore, his interest in the handsome, fearless youth in- creasing each moment, CHAPTER XX. THE STRANGE PASSENGER. THE Sea-Cat was about ready to sail from Boston Harbor when a man with gray beard and bushy hair came down to the wharf and asked if he could get passage to Portsmouth. ‘Yes, I can give you a berth,” said Mark, and he eyed the man closely. ** And how long will you be in Portsmouth?” was asked. ‘** A few hours, perhaps,” ‘* Suppose [ wanted to go on then to Portland, could I get a berth?” ‘S Yes, sir.” ‘*Then you will not be crowded with passen- gers?” “ No.” “* How many have you now?” **T think twelve.” ** All men?” ‘No, I have four male passengers, the rest are females.” “Well, cap’n, I'll run up for my carpet-bag and Base: you, if you can wait half an hour.” **T will not sail for nearly an hour, sir, so you will have time,” was Mark’s response, and the man turned away. ** Chips, follow that man and see what he does but do not let him see you,” said Mark to one of his crew, a lad with a freckled face full of mis- chief and cunning. Chips darted away and half an hour after the man returned. He carried in his hands asmall carpet-sack and a box, and was shown his berth by Charcoal. The Sea-Cat was now ready to sail, but Mark waited, for Chips had not returned. Soon he came running down to the wharf and sprung on board. ‘Well, Chips?’ asked Mark, as he left the tiller to Buntline and went forward to where the lad was winding the jib halyard. _ “There was two fellers awaitin’ him round the corner, skipper, and I passed ’em by slow like and heerd him say: ““*He hes got but four men passengers on board, ’sides his crew, and I goes to Portsmouth in her, *** Thar I kin tell yer all, for Pl run down in a small boat and j’ine yer off the Isle of Shoals, and you kin then lay for her off Portland, whar he will put in, and she’s yours.” ‘* Aha, you heard all this, Chips?” “Yes, skipper, for I jist passed ’em slow, and then went around the corner and stopped. ‘‘ But there’s more to tell.” “Well, Chips?” ‘‘Them two men as he talked to walked off rapid like, and somehow I missed seeing where the man iz told me to foller went. “But I followed them, and they went down toa schooner half a mile below, and, Skipper Mark, if it hain’t the Shark in disguise, asa coaster, Pll live without eatin’,” Mark smiled, and to the surprise of Chips, said simply: ‘*T thought so, “Now, Chips, keep your eye on that man during the voyage, but do not let him suspect you. : “Not me, skipper, I kin see and not be seen,” The -strange passenger made himself most agreeable as the Sea-Cat sailed out of the har- TT ee 1 bor, but Mark saw that he kept looking back toward the city. As the Sea-Cat got out into open water, and lay on her course along the coast, the young skipper took his glass and made a clean sweep of the horizon. Then he glanced astern, and beheld just what he had expected, a schooner in his wake, though two leagues away. Healso saw that the strange passenger was: gazing at her, and there appeared to be a look of satisfaction upon his face. Mark, seeing him a moment after standing near, said casually: “Tam glad to see there are no suspicious ves- sels around, for Ihave a most valuable cargo on board.” ‘It’s a trifle risky these days taking valuable: | cargoes, skipper,” returned the man. ‘** Yes, but I think we shall get through all right.” ‘*T hope so, for you could not make a fight, if you were to see a foe,” **Oh, yes, for I have six men in my crew, and: the male passengers, about a dozen, to fight off a coast pirate.” “Not enough.” “*T fought off Caspar the Corsair once,” ‘“*T heard about that; but I hear he has armed his schooner now, and has two-score men.” ** Indeed!” ‘** Yes; and he threatens to put the skipper and his crew who resist him, instantly to death,” “Tt is catching before hanging.” **Yes; but his schooner is very fast.” ‘* So I know; but this sloop is too.” ** Well, I hope you'll have no trouble, young a a i **T hope not, surely, for we could not resist such a force as P fe say Caspar has now. ** But how did you learn this?” “From some seamen at the inn where I stopped. ** They said he had chased them into port.” ** And his vessel is armed?” ‘*'Yes, he’s got a twelve-pounder pivot-gun, I hear, and five sixes, two to a broadside, and one astern.” ‘* He is well armed then, and I shall have to keep a bright lookout.” “* You'll have nothing to fear after leaving Portsmouth.” “* How is that?” ** He cruises south of Portsmouth.” “‘T have heard of him north of the Penob-. scot.” _Oh, yes, but that was in his smuggling times; but now he has taken to pirating he wants to keep near the big forts.” ‘“You seem well informed regarding his move- ments.” The man’s face flushed, and he eyed Mark attentively. But Mark seemed only to have dealt a shot at random, and the man replied: “Well, I travel a great deal between Port- land and Boston, and my business causes me to carry a large sum of money, so I to learn all I can about the freebooters’ move- ments, so as not to be caught. ‘“‘ It was because I knew your craft was fast, and you had the pluck to defend her, I came with you, and I tell you, skipper; I’ve got con- siderable money with me now.” “*T think you will get through all safe, sir,” Mark replied, and then turned away, while he muttered to himself: ‘‘T cannot be mistaken, for his hair and beard are false, and I have seen him before. **So be it, we will see who is caught nap; ping.” CHAPTER XXT. A LAMB IN WOLF’S CLOTHING. IT was in the afternoon when the Sea-Cat ran into the harbor of Portsmouth. The strange passenger left her there, seemin very glad to have gotten to port in safety, a he shook hands warmly with Mark at parting, “See where he goes, Chips,” said Mark. ich i before the hour of sailing, Chips came on “ Well” “He went to the upper wharfs, and I saw a ee man who owns a small sail- t. ** And that was all?” ‘No, Skipper Mark, for after he left I went. to the man and asked him if he could hire his boat for to-night, and he said it was let. ‘T then told him I would pay a big price to get it, and he said he’d get a good price for it. anyhow. “Then I kinder talked round about, and which would make us" am particular
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ET awe r al 12 found he had let it to a gent who wanted to join a craft off the Isle o’ Shoals.” ‘* That settles it, Chips, the man is just what I ‘suspected him to be.” “A pirit’?” ** About as bad, I guess.” “Waal, Skipper Mark, it’s a pity we let him go. **We will see him again, Chips,” ** Whar?” ‘* When we come out of Portland Harbor.” *T declar’, I believe you is hatchin’ out some leetle game, skipper.” Mark laughed and Chips muttered: ** Things looks a leetle cur’ous, fer I find that et wasn’t a passenger took for beyond Port- land. ‘*T’m goin’ ter keep my eyes open, for Skipper Mark is up tu some game, that’s certain.” It was daylight also when the Sea-Cat went into Portland Harbor, and there the passengers all left the craft, not one being on board whose destination was beyond. There were some who came down to the wharf to take ren for Portland, but Chips looked positively amazed when Mark said quietly: ‘** Our passenger list is filled up.” ‘* Ts there not a single berth left?” asked an old gentleman. ‘*Not one, sir; in fact I will have more on board than I can accommodate in the cabin,” answered Mark. ‘*Sakes alive! Has Master Mark taken to lyin’ like that?’ muttered Chips, and he looked at his young commander in surprise. ‘* Buntlime!” called out Mark. ‘Yes, sir.” ‘*Get under way soon after dark, and come to when you reach the outer harbor, for I will join -you there.” Buntline looked surprised, but said nothing more than to acquiesce, while Mark continued: ‘* Say to all who may come that the passen- ger list is full, and take no one. ‘Tf any one asks for me say that I am unable to see them, and let no one come on board,” ‘Yes, sir.” ** But do not sail until after nightfall.” * All right, Master Mark.” Mark then walked up into the town and disap- peared from the anxious eyes of Chips, who was watching him and wondering. It was just after nightfall when the Sea-Cat left her wharf and headed out of Portland Har- iy As she glided along under easy sail, Buntline was at the tiller, and he and Charcoal were talk- ing together in a low tone, hat it meant that the young skipper should refuse passengers, and sail with an empty cabin they did not know, but both felt that Mark was playing some bold game. ‘© We'll know when he comes on board, Coal; here we are, off the fort, and I’ll anchor, as the tide is running in hard.” So the anchor was let fall and the Sea-Cat lay quietly upon the waters. Half an hour passed and ‘then a boat was seen approaching. “It’s full of men,” said Charcoal, and Bunt- line hailed, somewhat anxiously: * Boat, ahoy!” ** Ay, ay, Buntline!” “Tt was Skipper Mark’s voice,” said the old man. ‘* Yas, and dere comes another boat, and it’s full 0’ men, too,” Charccal said. ** And the’e’s another boat,” chimed in Chips. The first boat now ran alongside, and Mark ‘sprung on board, followed by a dozen soldiers, to the amazementof ‘the Sea-Cats’s crew. The two other boats soon after ran alongside, and other soldiers came on board, until half a hundred men were on the sloop’s deck. Nearly all of these were now crowded down into the cabin, while the boats, with an oars- man in each, put back for the fort. The ancbor was then gotten up, and a couple of officers and half a dozen men put on tarpau- lins and peajackets to hide their uniforms, for they remained upon deck, and the moon, just on the wane, was rising out of the sea, As the Sea-Cat began to glide seaward, the hatches were open, and out of the hold were staken four large boxes that had been marked as merchandise, as shipped to a merchant in Bath. These boxes were quickly opened by the sol- dliers, and found to be two twelve-pound cannon and ters With the force on board the guns were quick] mounted, ports were cut forward in the bul- warks and amidships, so that they could be used in different parts of the sloop, and then canvas concealed the apertures, EE EEO EEE —————— The Royal Middy. The guns were also hidden under canvas cov- erings, and a crew of six men was detailed for each gun, from the artillery soldiers on board, and placed under command of a young officer. The remainder of the soldiers were marines, loaned also from the fort, and their commander was a young subaltern, the two officers being under the command of Mark Montague. The sloop had now gained an offing, and the soldiers were kept in hiding once more. Mark went aloft with his glass, and swept the horizon carefully. Not a sail was in sight. Then he closely searched the coast, and beheld, lying under bare poles, and close in under the shadow of an island, a small schooner. ‘*Tt is the Shark, and as soon as we pass her, so that she can cut us off from Portland, she will set sail and give chase,” said Mark to the two officers. * And Captain Caspar will be considerably surprised to find that he has caught a lamb in the clothing of a wolf,” said one ef the officers, laughing. *“'Yes,” added the other, ‘This is a lamb with claws,” CHAPTER XXII. CLIPPING A TIGER WOLF’S CLAWS. Just as Mark had said, as the Sea-Cat glided past the schooner lying close in shore, and which was without doubt striving to remain hidden, those on board the sloop who were watching her, beheld her canvas going up. Ten minutes after she shot out from the land under all sail, and begun a chase of the sloop. Not a stitch of extra canvas was set on the Sea-Cat, which was under easy sail, and the schooner gained rapidly. Standing on the quarter-deck of the schooner were two persons, one of them Captain Caspar, the other a man whom the reader has met before, for it was none other than Carl Kent, the mutineer, who had sprung overbcard from the life-boat, the night he had attempted to take the lives of the wounded skipper, Mark and Charcoal. The schooner had really been armed, as the strange passefiger had reported to Mark, for she carried six guns, the one forward being & twelve-pounder mounted upon a pivot. Her crew combined of forty men, and they were all well armed. Before the sailing of the Sea-Cat from Boston Carl Dent, who had been living there at a sea- man’s inn, since his escape, had fallen in with a man to whom he was introduced by the land- lord, as Captain Caspar. Knowing that the landlord was a person who could not boast a clear record, Carl Dent had told him frankly that he was anxious to get into some berth that would pay well, even if it was piracy. The landlord happened to be the agent for the sale of Captain Caspar’s booty, and thus brought them together, for the freebooter often ran mto port boldly in his schooner, disguising her as a coast trader. The very day that Carl Dent met Captain Caspar he came upon Mark Montague on the street, and quickly turned aside before he was recognized, He knew of the unsuccessful attempt of Caspar to capture the Sea-Cat, and so he »proposed a plan by which he could do so. Je told Captain Caspar of the mutiny on Captain Montague’s schooner, and how he had been forced to spring out of the life-boat to save his life, and had reached the shore after a desperate struggle. “That boy kept me out of a fortune, and I want his life, ‘** T'll plan to catch his vessel, and I ask no re- ward, only that you will hang him, ‘Then if you wish to give me a mate’s berth with you, l’ll be more than willing.” So he said tou Caspar, who readily agreed, for he was anxious to capture the Sea-Cat for his own use, outside of the value of her cargo. As to hanging Mark he did not intend to do so, though he led the mutineer to believe that he would, “The boy is plucky, and has only done his duty in defending his craft, so I'll tet him go,” he said to himself, So Carl Dent played his part well, going on the Sea-Cat as the “strange passenger,” finding out just what force Mark had, and the value of the cargo, and leaving the sloop at Portsmouth. There he ran out in a sail-boat, and joined the Shark off the Isle of Shoals, and the pirate craft AS Leary may 4 Oe ee ti — then headed for the coast beyond Portland to lie in wait for her victim. As the sloop passed on and did not show any desire to increase her speed, Captain Caspar re- marked: ‘*They could not see us lying in there @nder bare poles, and have not yet discovered us.” ‘* So it seems, and we are gaining rapidly,” re- sponded Dent. ‘*T am glad of it, for we will get within easy range, and can bring her to, if we cannot over- haul her without, for that sloop sails fast, Dent.” “*T don’t doubt it, for you are under full sail and do not gain as fast as I thought you would —there! he has sighted you!” “Too bad.” This remark was caused by seeing a show of excitement on the sloop. An extra jib was set, the topsail was run up and the huge mainsail trimmed more closely. The effect of this extra canvas was to send the Sea-Cat along at a pace that caused Mark to see that they were gaining on the schooner slightly. ‘“Drag the anchor forward, Buntiline, for if we gain they will open fire, and I don’t wish the Sea-Cat hurt.” The dropping of the anchor forward, just be- low the cutwater, caused the headway to be deadened, and the schooner was soon seen to be ewer + As she drew nearer, she suddenly fired a shot over the sloop, as a command to come to; but Mark held quietly on. Another shot was then fired, but far over the decks, “*Captain Caspar does not wish to harm the Sea-Cat, feeling sure of her,” said Mark. Other shots were fired, but none came very near the sloop, and it was very evident were in- tended \to frighten the crew and not to hurt the vessel. Then the schooner ceased firing, and began to rapidly gain on the sloop. he soldiers still remained in the cabin, but the guns were loaded with grape, and the mus- kets were charged, so all was in readiness to act, when Mark gave the word of command. The wind was not very strong, hardly more than a six-knot breeze, and as the schooner came nearer Mark hailed: ** Schooner, ahoy !” ** Ahoy the Sea-Cat!”’ ‘¢ Why are you firing on me?” ‘*To force your surrender, for I claim you as my prize.” ““{ warn you off, for I shall defend my sloop.” “Tt is madness, for I know your force, and I have half a hundred men.” **T shall fight you.” ‘*Tt will be the worse for you, boy.” “Fire!” shouted Mark, and half a dozen mus- kets rattled forth as a blind. “* Drop down, all of you! : With the order of Mark all on the sloop did so, while a shower of bullets went flying over the deck. “Now get that anchor up in place, Buntline, and then you take the helm.” This order was quickly obeyed, and as Bunt- line came back to the tiller, the schooner was not a cable’s length away. “To your posts, for I shall go about,” said Mark. A moment after came the command: ‘¢ Ready, about!” As the sloop swept up into the wind, those on the schooner seemed to feel that she was doing so to come to, and the latter vessel sailed so as to run alongside, But out of the cabin, at the low command of Mark Montague, came the gunners, and behind them were the marines, their muskets in their hands, The gun to starboard was stripped of its can- vas, the muzzle run through the hole in the bul- wark, and then came the command; * Firer” Hardly had the cannon sent its shower of grape-shot be the schooner’s deck, when again came the order: ‘Marines, attention! ‘¢ Fire!” Then there flashed out thirty muskets, and the leaden hail was poured upon the pirates. The kelmsman of the schooner was killed, the crew were utterly demoralized, for a dozen of their number were killed or wounded, and the Shark lay almost helpless upon the waters, for n0 ~ longer held upon her course, she had swept up quickly into the wind. The wolf's claws had been clipped by the lamb.
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CHAPTER XXIII. THE MIDDY’S PRIZE. bt Smal ef The Royal Middy. what a valuable prize he had captured, as he had found the hold of the schooner stored with So thoroughly bewildered. were the crew of | arich cargo of booty that would bring in a the schooner, at the unexpected turn affairs had taken, that they were poweriess to move, The deck of the schooner was strewn with dead and wounded, for the fire of grape and musket balls had played sad havoc, and there seemed no one to spring tothe helm and keep the vessel on her way, The captain was as much amazed as his men, and for the first time in his life he was wholly taken aback, He saw that he had been caught in a trap of his own setting, and how to extricate himself he did not know. That the sloop was armed he well knew, for she had shown her teeth in a most vicious man- ner, and that there was a large force on board the moonlight plainly revealed to him. He turned to his ally in his distress, That worthy, Carl Dent, was standing like one dazed, and he saw that he knew no more what to do than he did. So in his desperation Captain Caspar shouted: “ Fire on them!” Some of the pirates fired a few scattering shots. But the sloop was coming back to attack the schooner, and the latter was now at her meer for his men could not be rallied to the attack, he well knew. Turning to Carl Dent, the captain said in a low tone: ** You are a good swimmer?” “Yes, how far is it to the land?” ‘** An island is not a mile away, and the tide runs in. ‘Then it is a short swim to other islands,” “ Let us go.” ““To stay here is to be hanged,” “ Yes.” **") hen we will risk a swim,” ** All of us?” : * Ohj no.” “ Allright. I am ready.” “*T will soon be.” With this Captain Caspar was about to dart into the cabin, when a second fire from the sloo brought down several of his crew, and loud rung out the cry for quarter. - “There is my fortune in that cabin,” cried Caspar. Life is dearer,” said Carl Dent. Yes,” “Then let us go.” They slipped to the side and went over. Hardly had they gotten into the sea, when the sloop ran alongside of the schooner. Grapnels were cast, and the two vessels were .made fast together, while Mark Montague led his men on the deck of the Shark. But there was no resistance, and the schooner was a prize to the young midshipman. To secure the prisoners was but the work of a few minutes, and then came the query as to what had become of Captain Caspar. No one had seen him go overboard, or if any of his men had, they did not say so. . The schooner was searched, but the captain was not found, The carpet-bag and box, belonging to his strange passenger was discovered and recog- nized by Mark Montague, while inquiry of the pirates brought forth tke information that there had been a arene man come off and join the schooner near the Isle of Shoals, And what Mark was most surprised at, was that some papers among the stranger’s things bore the name ‘KARL Dent,” 6 pat, is ry Prey * our mutineer sailor, and a © escaped ight, ery fae [know thatI was right in feeling that I had seenthat strange Ppmenger before,” “Yes, Marse org, knows him now, sah. “cc h is e? at Hehee doubtless gone ashore, for the swim is not so long a one as he took before,” yA A d the cal ’a Has ie with him, sah?” “Dou arcoal. ee might take a boat, sah, and a couple of pony he land on the island yonder, to look noo 8 Coal, and I will send half a dozen ig. But the search of the island was useless, for the oe beta could not be found, and so the two vessels got under way once more an back (ie prope coments ore ies, along wi e pI oners, while the sloop went on her way to the nnebec. pe But before leaving port Mark discovered snug little sum of prize money. Arriying at Bath Mark found that the stage- coach was ahead of him, with the news of his capture, and the whole town turned out to wel- come the young hero. No, not the whole town, for Mr. Reuben Pat- terson had a quota of friends who were most bitter at the treatment he had received at the hands of the young middy. Whether they rejoiced in secret at what the merchant had ered, they were sycophants, and publicly spoke most bitterly of Mark Mon- tague, and threats were made to have him dis- missed from the king’s navy, or rather to pre- vent him from entering upon his duties as a mid- shipman. c ut Mark cared little for their threats, and went on in the even tenor of his way. He had made up his mind that he would re- main at home for a short while, as he intended to enter the navy, and Buntline was given the charge of the sloop as skipper. Several days after her arrival in port, the Sea-Cat set sail for her usual voyage, Old Bunt- line vastly proud of his promotion, and Mark remained at home. But he had written a report of his capture of the Shark to the commodore, and stated that the prize was in Portland Harbor, subject to his orders, and with a guard of soldiers on board, He also stated that after a stay at home of a ap he would come to Boston and report for uty. This letter he had given Chips to deliver in cone to the commodore, and then he had settled own, after the Sea-Cat sailed, to a life of quiet rest, for the time he would be with his loved parents and sister. But that night, shortly after canes a tap came upon his window and awakened him, weer to it he recognized in the moonlight none other than Chips. CHAPTER XXIV. THE CAPTURE. Wuen Mark looked out of his window, he saw that Chips was bareheaded and looked in distress. A few hours before the boy had sailed in the sloop, so why was he back there at night? Raising the window, he said softly: ‘* Dll be right out, Chips,” He did not wish to alarm his mother or sister, and so quietly dressed Sand sprung out of the window. ‘ The two walked away from the cabin, and Chips said quickly: ‘*'The Sea-Cat is gone!” “What do you mean?” “* She’s captured.” ‘‘The sloop has been captured?” ** Fact!” “Who by?” “Captain Caspar.” ‘“*Tell me about it, Chips.” ** Tt was off Seguin.” “ Well?” “We was sailin’ along quiet, when all of a suddint out come two boats right onto us.” “Well” “They was under the land close, so we didn’t see ’em, and if we had, we couldn’t have done nothin’,” ‘‘ And they captured the sloop?” ‘* Sure.” ** It was Captain Caspar?” “Yes; and the wind was light, so we couldn’t have got away.” ‘* And then?” ‘Skipper Buntline was at the helm, proud as a peacock, Charcoal was asleep, and t’others of the crew ’way forward, while I was in the caboose tryin’ to steal somethin’ to eat. “We had no passengers, as you knows, and there was no shootin’.” a ep they hail “el 03 we di see em until they rowed out of the shadder of Seguin Island. a “Their oars was muffled, and they rowed right aboard, one boat on each side.” “How many men?” ‘* About twenty.” “What then?” ‘They just seized the sloop, and one said he were Cap’n Caspar, and he guess the sloop would do to start life in ag’in.” ‘¢ And Buntline, Charcoal, and the others?” “Was made prisoners,” * And you?” “*T didn’t leave the caboose, and I seen it all. when nobody were lookin’, I jist slipped over the side and swum fer the island, aad then to ther main sbore, and I comed om foot up to see you.” “They did not see you, then?” cc No,” ‘* Which way did the sloop head?” “To Portland, for Cap’n meant to capture back his schooner, and have: both vessels,” . Chips!” cried Mark, suddenly. * Yes, sir.” ** You know how to hitch up a horse, so go to», the barn and put Trot to the wagon, while L wake father and mother up. “Then we will go to Bath, get a good team, and drive to Portland with all speed.” ““l’m with yer, skipper,” said Chips, and he: darted off to the barn. In a few moments Mark had told his sur- rised parents all that had occurred, while Mrs. ". ee hastily prepared some supper for ips. Then the two sprung into the wagon with Captain Montague, who was to drive them te- the town. Half an hour after Mark and Chips were on. the road to Portland, and they kept the horses: going at a lively pace. Three times did Mark change his horses on. the way, as he drove hard, and he anxiously watched the skies and the wind. “T don’t like this fine breeze, Chips, for it is just in their favor, and they will come along the coast with a cap full, and be ahead of us: I fear.” ** But they wouldn’t go inter port in daytime,,. war, ge ‘*T should think not, and they cannot know of your escape, and therefore do not expect any alarm to be given. ‘No, they will hardly attempt to cut the. schooner out before night.” So Mark said, and so he hoped. But his heart sunk within him, when he ar- rived in Portland, to discover the sloop and. the schooner in the offing, and sailing side by side for the open sea. CHAPTER XXV. THE PIRATE’S TRIUMPH. THE springing into the sea, from the schooner, of Captain Caspar and Carl Dent, had not been observed by any of the pirate crew, in the intense excitement on board, and they struck. manfully out for the shore. Both were splendid swimmers, the tide was in their favor, and they reached the nearest island. without very great fatigue. They had not been long there, when Captain. Mey said: ‘When they miss us, do you not think they will search for us here?” “Tt would be just like that boy to do so,” ‘* Then let us push for another island.” “If there was some fisherman’s hut near, where we could get a boat, we would be all right.” “There is, a few miles up Casco Bay.” “We can get there?” ‘Yes, come on.” _ Into the water they went again, and from island to island they made their way, until at- seme utterly prostrated they reached the main- and, There they lay upon the shore until they were- able to travel, and slowly they went along until: they came in sight of the cabin. It was late in the afternoon and they were: rey hungry and wretched. he fisherman was away from home, his wife: said, had gone to the town for supplies, and. would not return until the next day. They told her that they were shipwrecked, and she gave them food, and then they lay down to sleep. It was night when she awoke them, having a hot supper prepared, which they ate of heartily, and then saying that ad would start for Portland they bade her good- iz: When they saw the light put out in the hum- ble cabin home they crept back to the shore and took the skiff belonging to the fisherman. “T knew she would not sell it, so did not: ask her; but this is double the price of it,” said Captain C , and he stuck an oar in thesand, wing oS his handkerchief, in which there were’ & he - a dozen 2 ahem ou are a fool row your money away,. for we have the skiff,” said Carl Dent. “ [m a pirate, yes, and a very bad man; but. 1 wouldn’t be so mean as to rob that poor fisher- man’s wife,” was the answer. . Getting into the skiff they set the tiny 9 and Captain Caspar taking the helm they on their voyage, Caspar said he= ee waa
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PF inn sag Ree The Royal Middy. Their course lay down the coast, and the couple of spare belts of arms for my mate and ” pirate captain knew just where he was going. Their voyarge was not a quick one; but they arrived after forty-eight hours in the Kennebec, and the skiff was run ashore at a point near the rendezvous which had been agreed upon be- tween Captain Caspar and his mysterious Spy in Bath, asa place where letters could be left. It was early in the afternoon when they reached there, As the pirate reached the spot he came sud- denly upon a horseman. Both men started, and then the pirate said: ‘*Tt is a godsend to meet you, sir.” ** You are Caspar the Corsair,” said the horse- man, ‘*Tam, andI know you, for I dogged your steps that night of our meeting and found out who you were. $ ‘Nay, put on no airs, for I am a desperate man, and I need your aid, and I can enrich you if you will help me now.” ‘IT heard you were dead.” ‘*Oh, no, the rumor was false, as you see.” ‘*- Your vessel was taken?” “Oh, yes, but I escaped by swimming ashore, and I have a comrade with me. ‘He lies yonder in the skiff, utterly worn out, as Iam, while we are half-famished.” **T left a letter here for you some days ago, and, hearing you were supposed to be drowned, I came here to get it. ‘* How strange that we should meet here!” **T came to leave a communication here for ‘you, to get you to help me start once more. “T have my ink-horn and quill with me, as you see, so meant to leave a letter, saying where you could find me.” ‘*T do not know what I can do for you.” ‘** Much.” “What?” ‘First, go and get us some food, and cover- ing, and when we are comfortable we can talk together.” ** J do not wish your comrade to see me.” ** As you please; he need not,” - “T will meet you here within two hours, say.” “T ean be back sooner,” and the horseman rode away. Captain Caspar then went after Carl Dent, cand hiding the skiff the two sought a place of refuge in a pine thicket among the hills. ‘* Wait here, Dent, for I know where I can get food,” said Captain Caspar, and he departed, jeaving Carl Dent, who was very weary, lying upon the pine straw. He had not waited long at the rendezvous, when the horseman returned. His horse was covered with foam, showing that he had ridden hard. ‘*T went to a farm up in the hills and got you this food, and here are comforters for you to sleep on and cover with to-night.” 8 ou are kind; but now tell me if the sloop is “ The Sea-Cat?” “ Yes. ” “She is.” ** When does she sail?” ‘‘ Day after to-morrow is her day.” ‘**T wish to seize her.” “** How can you?” ** You must help me.” ‘*T cannot.” “Do you know Dick Stebbins of the Ocean Ton” ic “ Deliver him the note which I will write, and hand him for me a thousnad pounds.” ‘*T have not the money. ‘Get it then.” **T cannot.” “You can and you must.” : ‘*T do not wish Stebbins to know that I am Bh: vs a ‘* Call it mate, as you fear to calla pirate your friend.” ‘* Well, have it so.” ‘*-You can go to Stebbins’s place and call him out in the dark, ‘* Disguise yourself so that he will not know you, and hand him the note and the money.” ‘“T have not got the money.” ‘You must get it, or I will tell what I know, while if you do as I ask, I will make you partner -of one-third in my prizes.” ‘* What is your plan?” **T will write Stebbins to get me a dozen good men, have them come down in two boats to this place the night before the sloop sails and meet me. “Stebbins knows me, so understands what men I wish, and will get me those I oan trust. | ‘*They must all be armed, and bring along a myself. f ‘* You intend to seize the sloop?” ** Yes, and then with her to take my schooner, wherever she may be.” ** She is at Portland.” ‘** Good! with the sloop and the schooner I will og just what I intended to get, so will be well oO ‘* Now I will write the letter.” lt was written and given to the horseman, who started off with it,while Captain Caspar, to the delight of Carl Dest, soom appea‘ed in the thicket with plenty of food aad covering. The night after the sloop was captured, as the reader knows, and s@ fax the pirate had triumphed. CHAPTER XXVI. CAPTAIN CASPAR’S RUSE. WHEN Mark Montague arrived in sight of the harbor of Portland, and beheld his own sloop and the schooner, sailing swiftly away, he was deeply chagrined, Of course there could be but one solution to it, and that was that the pirate had gotten ahead of him. But then how was it that the outlaw had been enabled, in broad dayiight, to take the schooner out of her harbor? That was the mystery, There seemed to be no excitement in the town, or at the port. But, as there was only one way to solve the mystery Mark took that way. He went to the fort, He was sent by the commandant, to whom ue had sprees before for men, when he had carried a letter from the commodore to him, As the reader has surmised, Mark had sug- | gested to the commodore a way that he could capture the Shark and her crew, and he had suc- cessfully carried it out. To have his success shadowed by the capture of his sloop, and the recapture of the schooner was a bitter blow to Mar But he did not despair, and when he met the commander of the fort he said quickly: ‘* The schooner has gone, sir, I see?” ‘* Oh, yes, and I supposed you were with her, Midshipman Montague.” ‘*Oh, no, sir, for 1 just drove here with all haste, from Bath, to tell you that my sloop had been captured by Caspar the Corsair, and—” ‘* What?” cried the commander in alarm, ‘* The Sea-Cat sailed last night, sir, from the Kennebec, under command of my former mate. “This youth was on board, and says that she was boarded off Seguin by two boats filled with men, under Captain Caspar. ‘Chips here escaped, came to my house, and we drove here in all haste, hoping to head the Corsair off, for he said he was coming here to recapture his schooner.” ** And by Neptune’s beard he has done it, ** See here, Montague, I saw the sloop run in and anchor. ‘She dropped anchor not far from the schooner, and a boat came off, and a man landed here at the fort. : ‘* He brought me this letter from you, and, as I never saw your writing, knew that the sloop was yours, and that you intended to stop on your w ray back, I suspected no treachery, ‘* Read the letter.” Mark seized the letter and read aloud: “On Boarp Packet Stoop SkA-Car, “To Magor GARDINER, CoMMANDING ForT:— ** Dear Sir:—I am unable to visit you in person, so that you turn the Shark, the pirate prize, over to the bearer, who will give receipt for me. “I have a crew with me to take her to Boston, whither I am now bound. ** With esteem, and thanking you for ness, for by the aid of your troops alone the schooner, “Tam, your obedient servant, “Mark MontTacusr, “Midshipman,” “N, B.—I will see that the officers and men who aided me get their full share of prize money. “M. M,” ‘Well, Midshipman Montague, what do you think of that?” ‘No one could suspect it, sir, of being other than genuine.” ‘So I think, and upon it I gave orders to the marine officer to turn the schooner over to you, and the prisoners are on board, as you know.” “That Caspar has done a great thing, sir.” “ He has, indeed.” But I will get back my sloop and the schoon- er our kind- captured “ How can you?” “There is no vessel-of-war in port?” ‘* None.” ‘* And to go on to Boston would be to lose the captured vessels.” **So I should think.” **Do you know of a small merchant craft in port that is a fast sailer?”’ ‘Yes, there is a brig here, as trim as a yacht, and she is to be bought by the Government for a cruiser, though her owner still holds her at a price too high.” ‘* Where is she, sir?” “* Anchored up the harbor.” **Can I get her for a short cruise?” **T could levy on her under the circumstances, ontague.” “Will you give me artillerists for two guns, and the guns wish to borrow, along with some marines?” “ Gladly, I will be only too happy to serve you. ‘ = Then, sir, please let us go at once after the rig. he major gave his orders to get two pieces of light artillery ready to ship on the brig, and the men to man them. Then he ordered forty marines out ready for the cruise, and away he hastened with Mark af- ter the owner of the brig, while Chips drove the tired horses to the stable. The brig’s owner was found and readily grant- ed permission for Mark to take her, when he heard all, while he told him where he could pick up a dozen men to sail her. An hour only, so well did Mark work, was it before the brig was lying off the fort taking on board the two cannon and the soldiers. When at last she ran out of the harbor under full sail, the sloop and the schooner were but mere specks on the sea, and heading down the coast, two leagues off-shore. Night was coming on, and they would soon disappear from sight, but this fact did not seem to trouble Mark much, as he entered the cabin of the brig with a confident smile upon his face. In the cabin sat a man whose face was pale and haggard, as though from sufferin.g It was one of Captain Caspar’s pirate crew, who had been wounded and taken ashore with other wounded shipmates, where they could be under the care of the fort surgeon. ‘* My man, I wish to havea talk with you,” said Mark, and he added, significantly: ‘*T had you brought on board from the fort to see how much you value your life.” CHAPTER XXVIL : THE CAPTIVE. In spite of his great hurry to brig in chase of the sloo Montague had his wits about him. Should the pirates see him in chase, he knew that they could readily hide from him along the coast, especially as night was coming on, Then, too, he well knew the speed of both the sloop and Shark, and he feared that the brig might prove to be no match for them, ‘“* Are there not some of the pirates at the fort who were wounded, Major Gardiner?’ he asked. : ‘Yes, a dozen, several seriously wounded.” ‘*T would like to borrow one who is least seri- ously wounded, sir.” “What for? “T think I can make good use of him in Pel I have not the time to explain now, Major G: - ner. “Take any one you please, and all, if you wish, for they belong to you, Montague,” laugh- ed the major. r “No, sir, one will do,” and Mark went into the fort prison and picked out his man, while Chips escorted him to the brig’s cabin and stood guard over bim. Then Mark asked the major to write to the commodore, at Boston, telling all that had oc curred, and the brig set sail. When the Royal Middy entered the brig’s cabin, Chips was carefully guarding the prison- er, whose wound had not been as Serious as was sup at first by the surgeon. ‘My man, ee this coast pretty well, I believe?” said Mark, fixing his piercing eyes upon the man. ‘“*T know it.” “How long have you, been under the com- mand of Captain Caspar?” “Two years,” was the sullen reply. ne i you know where I am taking you now?” *No.” The prisoner was not aware that Captain Cas- par bad recaptu his vessel, and Mark did not intend to let him know it. ‘You know what the fate of a pirate is? t off in the and schooner, Mark
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to The Royal Middy. *T am no pirate.” ‘What are you?” “1 break the law only as a smuggler.” ‘‘-You will be hanged as a pirate, for Captain Caspar gave up smuggling a year ago to turn pirate, or he is both smuggler and pirate, and you will suffer at the yard-arm for your crimes.” ~ The man’s face was livid now, and Mark con- tinued: ‘“Now, I selected you from among your mates, as I rather liked your face, felt sorry for you, and do not care to see you hanged. ‘But it rests with you as to whether you will be hanged up to the yard-arm or not.” ‘* Rests with me?” cried the pirate, eagerly, ‘Yes, with you,” : ‘¢ What control have I over my life?” “You know where Captain Caspar has his re- treat on the coast?” ** Well?” ‘‘ You can pilot this vessel there.” **Tt will do no good.” “ Why?” ‘* He is dead.” ‘‘ Did you see him killed?” ‘Oh, no, but when your hot fire came he was standing upon the bulwarks, and he must have been shot and fallen into the sea, for how else could he have gotten away?” ‘Might he not have swum ashore?” ‘‘T think we were too far off for a man to at- tempt it.” : ; ** And so you deem him dead?” ite hoi ‘‘ Well, pilot this brig to his retreat and I will give you your pardon.” “T cannot do so.” “Why not?” ‘I do not care to betray the few men who are there.” ‘“ You seem to be a good fellow yourself, and I promise you a pardon, which I will get for you on our arrival in Boston; yes, and I'll give you a berth as a seaman, if you will pilot the rig to the rendezvous of Captain Caspar.” ‘*T thank you, Master Montague, but I do not care to betray my mates, so must refuse.” ‘You are determined?” sY eg,”” ‘* Well, my man, you will see that I can be determined too.” ‘“*T have told you what [ would do, if you served me, and you refuse, ‘¢ Now I will tell you what I will do if you do not act as my pilot.” ** Well, sir?” “T will hang you to the yard-arm of this brig within the hour.” . The man started, glanced into the face of the ib and saw only resolve there to carry out is threat, Neither spoke for some moments, and then the captive pirate said: ‘ This is a sad fate, sir, because I will not be- tray my mates,” ‘** Tt is a fate you deserve for your crimes, and because you refuse to accept your life on my terms I will be merciless. ** Now, decide.” ‘* Well, Master Montague, life is dear to me,” ** Tt is to us all.” ‘ “ The —— has been my friend, sir, and I would die before I betrayed him. ** But I believe he is dead, and hence cannot be at the retreat. ‘The men there are nothing to me more than others are, and I will save my life and gain my freedom on your terms.” +‘ You decide wisely.” “ And I will take the pardon you offer to get me, sir, _ begin life anew, in the berth you say I may have.” x Well said, and it shall be yours when you are willing to take it after having done your duty, as I demand of you. ‘“Now, make yourself contented here in the cabin, until I am rhe for your services as guide, only tel] me to what point I shall lay my oot he pi he desired inf t d € pirate gave the desl information, an Mark vett hin alone in the cabin, relieving Chips from his duty as guard. hen the ee nks the reg and schooner were nowhere to be seen but then the Royal Middy had ordered the brig under shortened sail, as he found her to be a good sailer, not wish- ing to be sighted by the pirates in the morning, He was sure that Captain Caspar would head directly for his rendezvous to hide until his daring capture of the sloop and schooner had blown over, and so securely had he always con- cealed himself from’ being run to earth, that he would feel safe in his retreat and expect no pursuit. In this the Royal Middy hoped to disappoint him, and he was careful not to let the captive know that he was in chase of the Corsair, or he would surely refuse to act as pilot. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ROYAL MIDDY. Ir was night when the brig headed in toward the rugged coast, at the point where the captive pirate had told the Royal Middy to head for. _ The soldiers seemed rather pleased with their cruise, asa break from the monotony of fort life, and the crew of the brig, the half-score of seamen whom Mark had so hastily shipped, turned out to be a fair lot of sailors, and obeyed their youthful commander with alacrity. They had heard of his exploits, for the fame of the Royal Middy, as he was called by many, was rapidly spreading along the coast. The bre was within a mile of the land, when Mark sent Chips to the cabin to aid the captive on deck. His wound was in the side, and he had bled freely, but the bullet had touched no vital spot, and he was recovering as rapidly as could be expected. A chair was brought for him, and seated by the wheel, he gave his orders to the helmsman how to steer. ‘‘This is a bad coast to run along without a pilot who knows it well, and has nerve,” said the young lieutenant of marines to Mark, as they stood gazing upon the wild shores ahead of them, and which the brig was rapidly approaching. “That man has nerve, but what his skill is I do not know,” replied Mark. Soon the pirate pilot gave orders for the sail to be shortened, and to have just enough canvas set to control the vessel with. ‘“‘That man knows what he is about,” said Mark, as the brig passed in hetween two rocky islands, and glided around a mass of reefs piled high in air not half a cable’s length from her side. It was indeed a wild-looking place for a ves- sel’s keel to venture, and the seamen, who knew well the danger of a blow upon the bottom of a ship, held their breath in suspense. But the pirate pilot seemed unmoved, and leaning over the starboard bulwark, for he’ had risen from his chair, he gave his orders in a low, calm voice that showed confidence in himself. ‘Do vou know, Master Montague, it was your luck that caused you to select me?” asked the jot, as they were running close alongside of a ” e island of rocks. ‘© Why so?” ‘« Besides the captain I am the only one who can run a vessel in here by night.” “*Tndeed?” ‘‘Yes, sir, though several can bring small boats in by daylight.” ‘**T was fortunate in selecting you from among your followers then; but I never thought of that when I did so, as I was governed by another motive.” ‘¢ And may I ask what that was, sir?” ‘¢ Your face, for you looked to me like an hon- est man.” ‘* Looks often deceive, sir, asin my case; but I had much to make an outlaw of me. “ Still, L will be one no longer. ‘‘ See here, sir, we have to pass through this island, which is split in two, but there is water enough, and then we run into the Lost Souls Harbor, as the captain calls his retreat,” and the man laughed lightly. The and was passed through, with little space to spare on either side, and then the rugged mainland loomed up ahead. : Five minutes more and the brig rounded a point of land, and then glided very slowly, for the wind hardly reached her sails there, in that secluded haven, into the little cove where the reader first beheld the Shark at anchor. It was starlight, and, dimly revealed, the out- lines of two vessels were visible. As the brig was about at a standstill, two boats were lowered noiselessly, and into each went a score of marines, while the gunners re- mained on board to fire on the sloop and schoon- er if need be, for the Shark and Sea-Cat were recognized by all lying but a cable’s length apart. ‘Oh, Master Montague, what does this mean?” cried the pirate, pointing to the two vessels. ‘Tt means, my man, that Captain Caspar was not dead as you supposed, but swam ashore the night we captured his schooner, and he got a crew somewhere, boarded my sloop on_her way out of the river, and in her sailed to Portland, and pretending to come from me, got possession of his schooner. . “With the Sea-Cat and the Shark be sailed 15 ‘“‘Tf IT had known it, sir, that he was here, I would never have been your pilot. **T would have died first.” ‘*T feel that; but you need have no regret, my man, for you have done your duty and won your own life.” ‘Oh, sir, let no one of my mates, and above all the captain, know that I was the traitor. ‘*T thought that you would find here only a little booty, and that your coming would alarm the few who were here, so that they could es- cape, for they would be up in the cavern and surely know of your coming. “Oh, sir, at heart I am no traitor, and I beg that no one of my mates shall so believe me.” ‘They shall not, and you can go into my cabin, where no one will see you.” So saying, Mark went over the side into the boat, and the order was given to pull for the schooner, The oars were muffled, and the other boat, under the marine officer, headed for the sloop. Not until they were alongside did the sleeping pirates on the Shark and the Sea-Cat suspect the presence of a foe. Then they came rushing to the deck in alarm. A short, sharp hand-to-hand fight followed; but the pirates were overpowered and put in irons, and the victory was won by the Royal Middy and his men. But search for the Corsair Captain proved that he was nowhere to be found. Among the dead and wounded on both decks he was not to be seen, nor was he a prisoner. Then Mark remembered what the pirate pilot had said about the cavern retreat, and a pris- oner was quickly forced to tell the secret of how to reach there. The schooner was hauled alongside of the rocky shelf and a gang-plank hauled up into the rigging and laid across. But the cabin was deserted, though upon the floor were two beds, lately occupied, and here had been sleeping Captain Caspar and Carl Dent. Aroused from their slumbers by the shouts of the combatants and the firing, they bad gazed down into the little harbor, beheld the brig, sup- posed it to be a vessel-of-war, and knew that all was lost. ‘Come with me, Dent, for we must not stay here now. ‘Curses upon the man who brought that ves- sel in here! “Weare again fugitives, Dent, but we will not go without food and raiment this time and I have fortunately some gold with me. **Come, we will be off, for we can save our- selves, though my poor men must suffer, ** Come!” So saying, Captain Caspar and Carl Dent grasping hurriedly what thin they could carry with them, hastened back through the cavern out into the thicket, and once more be- came fugitives. Thus it was that Mark Montague found the cave empty—-no, not empty, for it was full of valuable booty, awaiting shipment to the sea- port agents of the bold Corsair of the coast. CHAPTER XXTX. CONCLUSION. SAILING away from the Lost Souls Harbor, with the pirate pilot again at the wheel, Mark Montague headed for Portland, where here turn- . the brig to her owner and the soldiers to the ort Then he kept the crew that had served him so weli on the brig, and with the Shark and the Sea-Cat headed for Boston. Buntline was again in command of the sloop, he, Charcoal and the others of his crew, happy over their release and the getting back of their little vessel. On board the Shark were the prisoners, down in the hold in irons, and Mark was in command, while the pilot was his companion in the cabin. _ After a quick run the two pretty vessels ran into Boston Harbor, and the welcome that was given the Royal Middy made his heart beat with pride. As he had proven himself so well capatle of commanding, the commodore turned the Shark into a cruiser, and placed her under the com- mand of the Royal Middy, who was to make of her a coast guard. — And right well did Mark Montague perform the work that was given him to do, his daring deeds becoming known along the entire Ameri- can Coast, and outlaws learning to dread the for his retreat here, and I have, with your aid, | very name of Montague the Royal Middy. run him down.” THE END.
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on Deore er a ee ay PAE NR AR LO BEA DLE’S*H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at tne Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY EDWARD L, WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 85 Wilda Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha O11; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger, 57 Deadwoeud Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar, 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine, 77 Corduroy Charlie ;_or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act, 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deatwoos Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. 188 Blonde Bll; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base, 149 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 156 Deadwood Diek of Deadwood} or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. Suger-Cooted Sam}; or, The Black Gown. Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughss Deadwood Dick’s eevide § or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 8 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. Deadweed Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick ef Jregon. Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ings. audiwsed Diek Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. Doetweed Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face ef Fare ate. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 poseweon Dick’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan orter. Deadwood Dick in New York} or, A “ Cute Care,” Deadwood PDick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand, Deadwood Dick, Jr. 8 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 458 — Sam, ot Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and, 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Romnd- Up. 465 Phito Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at Claim 10, A471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. 476 Humboldt Harry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Dog Detective. 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Compact. 496 Monte Cristo, Jr.: or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick's Diggings 3 or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance. 5LS Deadweod Dick’s Protegee. Deadwood Dick’s Three. 629 Deadwood Dick’s Danger Ducks, BSA Deadwood Dick’s Death Hunt. 539 Deadwoed Dick Jr. in Texas. B44 Deadwood Dick, Jr. the Wild West Vidoog, 549 Deadwood Dick on His Mettle. B5bDb4 Deadwoed Bick, Jr. in Gotham, 561 Deadwoed Dick in Boston, 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Philadelphia, 572 Deadweod Dick, Jr. in Chicago. 578 Deadwoed Dick, Jr. Afloat. 5S4 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr's. Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin, 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. 606 Deadwood Diek Jr’s Leadville Lay; or, Bristol and Bueket’s Loom. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 45 Qld Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Gifl Brigand, ' 68 Jim Bludsoe, JIr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team, 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective. 80 Roxebud Roby or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetegraph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance, 92 Daunan Ohet ¢ or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamen Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Bess Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent, 145 Capfaia Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s 088 JOD. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Seamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. , 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator, 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Slerra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista. 25S Sierra Sam’s Seven} or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Koy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 2Si Denver Doll's Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy ; 0% Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. $08 *Lixa Jane, the Gir! Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport, 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co,, the Detectives of Philadelphia, B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miuer. B89 Ss, ye Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. 868 npexe dim, the Gold-Gatherer 3 or, te 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. BITS Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. BRA Cool Kit. the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, BS5 Yreka Jim’s Joker} or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889. Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaldes, the Beggar-Boy Detective. The Lottery of 4 Jim Beak and Pal, Private vos. 8 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. Seulskin Sana, the Sparkler. ’ 4 ae - Ph Poe ye 3 Paces Hniee Sip. es j BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. Phil Mardy, the Boss Bey. Picayune Pete 3 or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detectives Detective Dick: or, The Hero in Rages. Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. Black Resa, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 7 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. WIHIIL Wildfire in the Woods. nee ee ee a] CNWSaW 165 Billy Bagguge, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Trump Card 3 or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. 174 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Hand; or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers. 189 Bob Rockett}; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed 3 or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. Dark Paul, the Tiger King. Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. Tom Tanner}; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 285 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Diek Dashaway ¢ or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 ‘The Young Sharps; or, Rellicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Dashuway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry. the Leveler; or, Thé Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Firefly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. A82 Invineible L n, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. A479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Secret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. BY OLL COOMES. & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy- 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide, 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Yeung Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Wawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper R .oger. $8 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 148 Sear-Yace Sanl, tle Silent Hunter 146 Silver Star, the Bey Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger, 175 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Disguised Guides or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ¢ or, Rainbhlt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Dae ding or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. ALT Webtoot Moxe, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, A444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedfoot Fred; ¢r, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarae Tom, the Big pn 9 Boy. A778 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. C. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, Th Boy Spy of ’76. BT The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains. 64 Dand Taek 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai). 82 Kit Harefoot the Woed-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.; or, The Boy Vivilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the my or, The Girl Avenger, 169 Tornado Toms; or, Injun Jack From Red Core. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy, 198 Arkansaw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Red Jezebel, 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoli_, the King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Detective, 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Dynamite Pans or, The Bowie Blade of Cochetopa. 802 The Meuntain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Tromp Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pardst or. The Terror of Take-Notice. 836 Rig Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitiless Matt; 0, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. B56 Cool Sam und Par’; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass 3 07,1 he Brecaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The [win Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Aitken nanos or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Red Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty 3 or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Hoy Shadow ; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. Av? The Exceisior Sports or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport, 502 Branded Ben, the Nicht Ferret, 512 Dodger Pick, the Whurf-Spy Detective, 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dick’s Desperate Case, 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows. 5S2 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. j y im 4 : re ee ’ A <a ine BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 7 The Flying 17 Ralph Roy, the Bey Buccancer; or 24 Diamond Dirk: or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf. 102 Dick Dend-Eye, the Boy Smugyier. 111 The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipnian’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Captain 3 or, The Hermit ot Hell Gate. 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 216 Rison BAli, the Prince of the Reins, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport 3 or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Orimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captals. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 i Floating Feather; ot, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned, 276 Merle Monte’s Orulse; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship.” 2R0 Merle Monte’s Fate; or. Pear!, the Pirate’s Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blwe-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. $04 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. $14 Ake Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail, 877 Bonodel, the Buy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner, BRB The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WII, the Boy Phantom, 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Ixodor, the Young Conapirator; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Vachtaman; or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. ASB A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider, 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vergeance. 446 Haphazard Harry 3 or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will’s Street Scouts. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Flora; or, Ward Will's Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferreta Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case, 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Kanger. 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. A9T Buck Taylor, King oi the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BIL, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 530 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Kue: skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marander ot the Rio. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son, 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 5bSO The Outcast Cadet; or, The Falee Detective, 586 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte. the Young Sea Rever. 5YT The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. 607 The Rever Detective; or, Keno Kit'’s Champions. Yankees or, The Ocean Outcast, ’ . r The Fugitive Yacht BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kansas King; er, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 5b Deadly-Fye, the Unknown Seccut. 68 Border Robin Hood ; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colerade; or, The Trapper’o Trust. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Foil; or, Double Carve Dans Ps Double Play. By kgs - vig 3 : 09 Bolly Dorrit, ‘the Vetersn Detective; or, Little Lightning’ Fovingtiee: By John W. Osbon. ’ Soe 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard. By T. C. Harbaugh. 611 Bildad Barnacle, the Detective Hercules; or, The Tussle at Table Mountain. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 612 Deadweod Dick Jr. in Detroit; or, Turning the Tables on Satan, By Edward L. Wheeler, 618 Billy Blazes: or, The Skeleton’s Legacy. By P.S. Warne. 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aid; or, The Queer Com- bination. y Jo Pierce. ¢ 615 Fighting Harry, the Chief of Chained Cyelone; or, The Heathen Chinee's Mission, By J, ©. Cowdrick. 616 The Ocean Detective; or, The Last Cruise of the Black By Gee. C. Jenks. Bear b e 617 Ralph, the Denad-Shot Scont; or, The Raiders and the Red Riders of the Kio. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Cincinnati; or, The Clincher Campaign. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective; or, The Double Grip Witness. By ve bee Attle tning’s L The Mystery vf the Island. 620 1s + aonb + Oston = League; or, The Mystery é 621 Truthful James, the “Pecooliar” Man; or, The Spoiler Dispoiled. By A. C. Grissom. 622 Texas Tom-Cat’« Triad; or, The Queer Affair at Tomb- stone. Bv Lieut. A. K. Sime. 628 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hummer; or, The Old Captain's Moving Miracle. By Jo. Pierce. 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Nevada; Pokerville. By E. L. Wheeler. 625 Smee pin Dan, the Boy Trailer; or, The Hero of the Crater, y Jos, E. Badger, Jr : 626 The Champion Pardss or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, By T.C. Harbangh. iKeady July 2% " 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas} ° The Wolfin the Fold. By Charles Morris, Ready July 30 Act; or, The League of the 628 Broadway Billy’s Dead Sworn aban ff By J. C. Cowdrick. Ready August 6. 629 Vi y the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee of Jacktown. Be Wie, Gratien, Ready August 13, ce 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr- in No Man’s Land; or, Goleonda, the Gladiator, Ed, L. Wheeler. Ready August 20. By Ed. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library is for aale by all newsdealers, five conte per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street New York, The Preacher ot 2 SR eee 4 sit x PP. Ey