CHAPTER III. A SURPRISE.

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Two days before the week succeeding the departure of Dick and his comrade had elapsed, Tom and Tim made their preparations to start after them. Ben had progressed nicely and was able to sit up and take an interest in life once more. After a long consultation with the commander the boys had arranged to make the first part of the trip by water. This in order to avoid the suspicion that they were following Dick and thus prevent the real importance of their mission from being discovered.

Toward evening of the day of their departure, Tim Murphy, overflowing with true Irish wit and humor, and full of expectations of an exciting trip with Tom Dare, climbed gaily aboard the long, low-built schooner that was to convey them up the coast to the Chesapeake.

"Sure, and it's welcome ye are to my private yacht, Tom," he called over the side to his companion. "Come aboard and join me party of friends who are thinkin' of cruisin' about for a few weeks at me expense."

"There will be a murder at your expense when the captain sees those muddy marks on his white deck," replied Tom. "She is a beauty though, isn't she?" he continued, gazing critically over the craft's lines and rigging.

"That she is," agreed Tim.

"Avast, you land-lubber," bellowed a voice from the fore-deck.

"Told you so," whispered Tom.

"What did I do?" queried Tim, staring about to discover the cause of the trouble.

"Oh, probably the gentleman who just spoke recognized you," laughed Tom.

"Ow!" yelled Tim, for at that moment a can of varnish which one of the sailors had been lowering from the masthead, reached Tim, and tilting slightly, covered his face with the sticky fluid.

"I'll be after haulin' ye to the gineral," shouted the outraged Tim. "Insultin' a special soldier on special duty is a serious offince."

"You look like a very special soldier," Tom managed to say between his bursts of laughter.

The appearance on the deck of the captain saved Tim from further disgrace, and after extending a hearty welcome to Tom and his offended companion, he led the two boys below and showed them their bunks. Tim hurriedly got rid of the varnish and joined Tom in the captain's cabin.

"We're all sailors together when we are on board, boys," began their new host. "The general has told me that you know something of sailing, and a little of navigating," turning to Tom, "so I'll ask you to assist the mate in standing watch. Perhaps as long as you are more or less of an amateur it will help you to have Tim with you on your watch. We sail at nine tonight, dropping down with the tide, and your turn won't come until tomorrow morning, so turn in, boys, and get in a good night's rest before the work begins."

The two new members of the crew found themselves ready for their bunks when the time came, and slept peacefully until early morning, when Tom was awakened by an unearthly shouting. Sitting up quietly in his bunk he rapped his head sharply against the bottom of the upper bunk, and before he had recovered his wits he was pounced upon by three sailors.

More quickly than it can be described he was bound and trussed like a fowl, and carried forward along the decks. Here he was promptly lowered into the dark hold, and found lying beside him the unfortunate Tim, gagged to prevent his shouts from disturbing the mutineers, together with the mate and captain in the same plight with himself.

Meanwhile the hatch had been battened down and nothing broke the stillness of the hold save the swish of the waves outside and the uneven breathing of his companions.

After considerable wriggling, Tom was able to reach Tim's gag with his hands and finally worked it loose.

"Now keep quiet," cautioned Tom, "or you'll have that pack of traitors back at us. Tell me what happened to you and what the meaning of this pretty affair is."

"You know as well as I do," returned the injured Tim. "I woke up with half the bloody wretches jumping on me and tying ropes all over me, so I just hollered and here I am."

"The captain and mate are hurt," Tom said. "If you will turn over on your side so I can reach your wrists, perhaps the knots will loosen up, and we can get the use of our limbs again. Then we'll look for some water to bring the captain around with."

The knots were more trouble than Tom had expected, and by the time Tim was free, the captain and mate showed signs of returning consciousness. Tim speedily released his friend, and together they loosed the two prisoners' bonds and chafed their wrists to restore circulation.

A hasty tour of the hold revealed to Tom a half dozen water casks and a canvas bucket in which he drew some of the cool liquid, and returned to the side of the captain and his fellow sufferer. The water sprinkled on them soon stirred the two men into renewed life, and after gazing about for a few moments they both broke forth into imprecations against their faithless crew.

"Unlucky day that I ever shipped that pack of robbers," muttered the captain. "A lot of Portuguese and Tories, probably well paid by the enemies of Liberty, turning against their captain on the high seas. They'll hang to the yard arm for this or I never saw a ship before."

"Guess we'll have quite a long day's work hanging all of them, won't we?" asked Tom. "Seems to me that we are more apt to be those hanging decorations ourselves unless we can get out of their way before long."

"They'll be too busy tending to business for a while," answered the mate. "From the sound of the water alongside, I judge there has blown up a pretty stiff breeze, and as far as I know, none of those villains knows any too much about handling a ship."

"Hope they know enough to keep her right side up," said Tom, "otherwise we'll be likely to gather no moss till we reach bottom."

"If they don't come down before night," the captain continued, "we ought to be able to get into the little galley under my cabin, and get the arms that we have on board. I don't think they are very well equipped with either guns or powder, though there's plenty of both on board. If they only give us time we'll have the best of it yet, and then—" The captain drifted on half to himself going over all the dire punishments the unruly crew might expect should he once get them into his power.

The day wore on without any visits from the men ashore, and it was well toward dusk before the four prisoners heard the hatch above them being removed.

"If they find us with the ropes all off, they'll probably tie us up tighter than ever," said Tom in a hurried whisper.

"Back to the stern part of this old hole," grunted the captain. "We can hide there for a few minutes, and I may be able to get the trap open into the musket room. We ought to be able to stand them off with clubbed guns until night, and then we'll make a try for the powder and shot."

The hatch had in the meantime been removed, and in the square above Tom could see the fast darkening sky, with two heads peering down into the darkness below.

"Can't see the old rats, can you?" said one.

"Have to get a lantern and investigate," answered the other. "Hey, Jack pass us a light, and come along below. Going to pay a visit to the captain and his good friends."

"Let's give them a warm reception," whispered Tom. "We four can easily surprise the three of them, and before they can get any help from above, we can get away, and climb into your store-house, captain."

"Go ahead," replied the captain, only too glad of the chance to settle scores with some of his rebel crew.

As the three sailors slowly descended the ladder, the first one carrying the lantern, our four friends stole softly nearer to the limited circle of light cast by the lantern's flickering rays.

The foremost sailor had just reached the bottom, when with a shout, Tim sprang for the man highest up, and, catching him by the ankles, threw him heavily from the ladder. The other two, taken by surprise at this unexpected assault from the men they had supposed to be bound, made very little trouble for the three Patriots, and were soon rolled up in the same ropes that their victims had recently escaped from.

The mutineers overhead hearing the scuffle in the hold, crowded about the hatchway, shouting questions to their comrades.

"Come down and see what's the matter," yelled the captain. "There's room for all of you in the same place your friends are stowed."

"We'll keep up the talk," interposed Tom quietly, "while you get the trap open into the gun room."

The captain hurried off into the darkness, while Tim, the mate and Tom kept up a running fire of comment with the sailors overhead.

"Come along and jine the bunch of us," yelled Tim, in his best Celtic. "We're after holding a small reception in our private quarters."

No response to his sally came from the hatch, and Tom' noticed the gradual addition of a number of sailors with lanterns about the opening.

"Hope there's enough of them left from this little tea-party to trim ship," said the mate, who had undertaken the duty of watching their three prisoners.

"Guess they'll take good care of their own skins," Tom replied. "Even if they don't show much regard for ours."

"Your friends is havin' a foine time," shouted Tim, whom no situation could frighten, "and we'll all be glad to see yez with us if you'll only accipt our invitation."

"You'd better be careful or they will be with us altogether too soon," interposed Tom.

"Right you are," the mate continued. "They won't stay away from us after they find we are unarmed for very long."

The group on deck had evidently reached some conclusion at this minute for a pair of legs followed by a long blue jacketed body appeared on the upper rungs of the ladder and the first of the sailors began a careful descent. He carried a long dirk in his belt, and the three on guard shouted to the captain that they would have to join him soon.

"Hold up a minute and I'll be ready for you," the captain replied. "Just a couple of shakes, and we'll be all right."

The three Patriots retreated into the darkness of the afterhold, and the first invader jumped to the bottom of the ladder, where he was speedily joined by half a dozen of his companions.

"Let us out of this," cried the captive sailors, who had been roped up by the boys. "Let us have a whack at them too."

"What's in these kegs?" whispered Tom to the mate, pointing to a small round object he had fallen over.

"Powder," replied the mate. "Why?"

Quick as a flash, Tom ran his fingers around the keg, until he found the plug. Working this loose a fine stream of black powder ran out and formed a little mound beside the keg. Tom hastily added more to this and spread it out in a thin line running toward the captain.

Tim, grasping his idea, helped all he could to lengthen the thin trail of powder, and they soon had a fuse of considerable length running from the keg to the trap in the gun room.

The mutineers were now starting toward the four prisoners, and as they approached to within a dozen yards of the keg, Tom cried out:

"Keep back or we'll send this old boat to the bottom. Another step and I'll touch off these powder kegs in front of you!"


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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