arely were the last spadefuls of sand packed down into Zachary Heigh's grave when Amos, who had wandered to the beach facing the sea and long outer shoreline, sang out: "Ship ahoy!"

Remembering their orders the men rushed over from the cove but remained hidden behind trees or shrubs. Chris and Amos climbed a tree from whose branches they had a fine unobstructed view up and down the coast. To the left, far distant, a point of land jutted out into the sea, tropical trees carrying their green out in a long curve. To the right, just appearing from the direction in which they themselves had come a few hours previously, came a majestic ship black from stem to stern. Black was its hull, but black too were its sails. It looked exceedingly ominous on the afternoon blue of the sea, and as it came almost level with the channel to the cove, its sails were lowered and the watchers on shore could hear the splash of the anchor as it was heaved overboard.

Then Ned Cilley, oldest of the Mirabelle's sailors, came panting up from the cove and Zachary's grave to look out from the leaves at the base of the boys' tree.

"Oh, Lordy, Lordy!" he exclaimed when he caught sight of the black ship, the last of her somber sails being taken in, "what did I tell you, lads?" he cried, addressing anyone and everyone near enough to hear him. "That be the Black Vulture, the pirate ship. No vessel is safe near the Black Vulture! What a God's mercy that all of us, and the Mirabelle, are out of sight, for the men aboard the Vulture know no pity, lads!"

Growls and murmurs rumbled along the shore from clump to clump of leaves where the men stood hidden. Chris pulled his spyglass from his pocket and looked eagerly at the pirate ship only a little way out from shore.

It looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.

"Ned!" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, "Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?"

"Aye lad, that they do," Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.

"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?" Chris persisted.

"Aye, that it be." Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. "What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?" Ned asked. "What's in your mind?"

"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned," Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.

Their conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.

Ned's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered: "Let me see, now. There's the Southerner—no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew—no; that's painted too." He turned, searching the faces of his friends. "Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?"

The Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.

"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture."

He was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides. "Aye aye!" "That be so!" "'Tis so!" Chris from his higher perch, pointed an accusing finger out to sea.

"Look then, for there's your same ship! The Venture and the Vulture are one and the same! Here—take my glass," he cried handing it down. "See the two second letters—they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed—bolted in, maybe, I don't know how—and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!"

The men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.

"Ah—the dirty dog—"

"And his friend with the airs!"

"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?"

"Aye—to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!"

The Captain came forward, his hands upraised. "How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful."

A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.

"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship—looks like that was what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!"

Sure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the Vulture. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again.

"Bless my cap and buttons!" Ned Cilley cried, "there's to be a fight for sartin. I can see the flash of light on the swords and axes!"

Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.

The pirate ship sailed down the coast, turned, and forced the oncoming vessel to stop. Then, as well as the watchers could guess, a parley ensued, but if the pirates thought the prey would be an easy one they were mistaken, for the merchantman came forward suddenly, all sails set, in an effort to ram the Vulture. But the rich cargo vessel was hopelessly at a disadvantage. The pirate guns opened fire, ropes were thrown over to the peaceful ship, and with yells of triumph that carried even above the tumult of the fighting, the pirate crew leapt on board. Tiny figures could be seen falling into the water from the merchantman, and in a bitter hour or so the sound of fighting died out altogether.

The men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight.

"Come, lads," Captain Blizzard said to them at last. "We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!"

"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy—they should all hang for it!" the voices cried.

"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?"

The men turned about and trouped back to the dinghies, while Captain Blizzard stayed behind a moment to speak to Chris.

"My boy," he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship, "'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do—we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits."

He looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned. "It will not be a moment too soon for me until I see you safe and sound on board again, my lad," he said, "for I like you well and would have no smallest harm come to you."

Together they went down to the beach and the waiting dinghy. Chris dared not look at the sky above them for he knew night was darkening it, and with the night he must leave.