The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

  FIREWORKS.

  The boat was well run up out of reach and sight of the enemy, a spotbeing selected where by a little manoeuvring beneath the shade of anoverhanging tree a few boughs could be pressed aside and a watch keptupon the movements of those on board the schooners, in case of theirboats coming in pursuit, or, what was quite probable, one or other ofthe vessels heaving anchor and coming up with the tide.

  But the time wore on without any sign being made, and as far as could bemade out through the glass, the Spaniards seemed to be quite contentwith beating off the attack, and from their movements they hadapparently come to the conclusion that they had seen the last of theoccupants of the boat.

  But they did not know the temper of those on board, nor that a quietlittle council of war had been going on, till, feeling the necessity forthe men being properly prepared ready for any fresh attempt, the doctorsuggested that a substantial meal should be made; and this was partakenof with a far better appetite than could have been expected. More thanone plan had been suggested regarding the next proceedings. One wasthat they should steal down the river under cover of the darkness and goin search of their friends; another, that an attempt should be made,when the tide was flowing most swiftly, to cut the cables, in the hopethat the vessels might drift ashore; but Joe Cross disposed of thisdirectly as not likely to be of any permanent advantage, and declaredthat there was only one thing to be done, and that was, to follow upwith another bold attempt to board.

  "You see, gentlemen," he said, "we never had a chance to get withintouch of the Spanish mongrels. I don't want to brag, but with a fairstart there aren't one of our chaps here as wouldn't take a good grip ofhis cutlass and go for any three of them; eh, messmates?"

  "In an or'nary way, Joe," said Harry Briggs.

  "Well, this is an or'nary way, messmate."

  "Nay; I call this a 'stror'nary one."

  "Well, speak out, messmate, and say what you mean."

  "Well, same as you do, Joe, only I put it a little different. Win orlose, I'd go in for tackling three of them in an or'nary way, but I saysthis is a 'stror'nary one, and you may put me down for six, and if I getthe worst of it, well, that'll be a bit of bad luck. But anyhow I'dtry."

  "And so say all of us," came from the rest.

  "Well," said Joe, laughing, "I never knew afore that I was the mostmodest chap in our crew."

  "Oh, I have no doubt about your courage, my lads," said the doctor, "northat my nephew here, though he is a boy, will fight like a man; but ifwe are to do any good we must work with method against such great odds.So now, Cross, let us hear what you propose to do."

  "Try again, sir--in the dark--and play a bit artful."

  "But how?" cried Rodd eagerly.

  "Well, I'll tell you, Mr Rodd. I proposes that we just show ourselvesonce or twice towards evening, and then make a dash right across theriver to hide again among the trees. That'll set 'em all thinking andasking one another what our game's going to be. Then we will lie uptill it's dark, up with the grapnel, and steal quietly down the river,keeping pretty close to the trees, till we are about opposite the enemy,and then we'll make a mistake."

  "Make a mistake?" said Rodd. "I don't understand you."

  "Well, sir, I aren't done yet. What I mean is, have an accident like;one of us sneeze, or burst out a-coughing, and me break out into aregular passion, calling him as coughed a stoopid lubber and a fool forshowing the enemy where we are. It will be best for me to be him ascoughs or sneezes, and do it all myself so as not to have any muddleover it. Then I shouts out, `Pull for your lives, boys--pull!' And wemakes no end of splashing as we goes on down the river, and all the timeas supposing that it's going to be dark enough so as they can't fire atus. Then it seems to me, Dr Robson, sir, that the enemy will say totheirselves, `They want to get out to sea, and they are gone,' while assoon as we have got a bit lower down we'll lie up under the trees andwait till about an hour before daylight, and all as quiet and snug as somany rats. They'll think they have got rid of us, and all the while weshall be waiting our time to steal up again right by 'em and begin tocome down once more from where they don't expect; and then--board."

  "Hah!" cried Rodd. "Capital!"

  "You see, gentlemen, it'll all have to be done as quiet as quiet, forthey're sure to have a watch set. I know what out-and-outers they areto sleep, but it's too much to expect that they will have both eyes shutat a time like this. One way or t'other we shall have the tide with us,but even if we don't I think it might be managed, and anyhow we shallhave no big guns at work upon us, and watch or no watch we'll manage tolay this 'ere boat alongside of our schooner, and if any one saysanything again' our getting aboard, I should like to know why, and if wedo get aboard I don't think it's in the schooner's new crew to drive usback again into the boat. There, gentlemen, that's all I know, and ifsome one else--the doctor here, or Mr Rodd, or Mr Morny, who is aFrench naval officer--can give us a better way, I'll follow anywhere,and I know the lads will come after me like men."

  There was silence for about a minute, and then the doctor coughed,drawing all eyes upon him.

  "There is no better way," he said. "It's a splendid plan."

  A murmur of assent arose, and Joe Cross looked quite modest.

  "But it will be some time yet before we can make our attempt," said thedoctor; "and how are we to pass the weary time till then?"

  "Oh," said Joe cheerily, "we can watch these 'ere great smiling eftstill then. They seem to be sailing about and watching us as if they'dgot some sort of an idea that they were to have us to eat by and by,which I don't mean that they shall. And then there'll be making thefalse starts. I think, sir, as we'll make one or two, as if we was halfafraid to make a dash for it, and that'll draw their fire."

  "But suppose they hit us, Joe," cried Rodd.

  "Oh, we must chance that, sir. They can't hit us. They couldn't hit ahay-stack in a ten-acre field; let alone a boat being pulled hard acrossstream. That'll be all right."

  And so it proved when Joe Cross put his tactics into force, making themen row out into the river, and then ordering them to lie on their oars,while Rodd watched the schooner's decks and announced that some of themen were busy about the guns and all crowding to the bulwarks to watchthe proceedings of the boat.

  Then a feint was made in one direction, then in another, and at last Joestood up in the stern, to begin gesticulating to the men, as if bullyingthem into making a bold dash to row swiftly down as near the farthershore as they could go.

  A minute later two puffs of smoke from different vessels shot out intothe clear evening air, the balls ricochetting from the water in eachcase a few yards away. Then, with the men pulling as hard as ever theycould, the boat's head was swung round, and rowing diagonally across thestream they made for the shelter of the shore from which they had come,the sail was hoisted, filled, and away they went till they were rightround the bend and the anchored schooners were out of sight.

  "There, Mr Rodd, sir, what did I tell you?" cried Joe triumphantly. "Iknew they couldn't hit us. Chaps like them ought never to be allowed tohandle a gun."

  "Well, my man," said the doctor, "if the rest of your plan will onlysucceed like this we shall achieve a victory."

  "Nay, nay, sir; only a little boat action. There, my lads, now we'llhave a rest. They're sure to think we have gone right up the river."

  "But they may send boats to follow us," suggested Rodd.

  "Certainly, sir, they may; but I don't think they will. They won't cometo close quarters so long as they have got bulwarks to fight from behindand the guns to tackle us when we show. They think that we can't facethe pieces. Well, I don't say as we are very ready to when there'sanother way round, but we haven't got long to wait before we must makeanother move, for the sun's down behind the trees, and I shouldn't besorry if it was to come on a fog."

  But no fog came, only darkness the blackest of the black, and the fewstars that peered out only l
ooking strangely dim.

  The wind had fallen soon after the sail had been lowered and the mastlaid well out of their way. One of the balls of spun yarn they had inthe locker had been brought into use, cut into lengths, and the oarssecured so that they could not slip away when they were left to swing,and at last under cover of the night the next part of Joe's programmewas begun.

  It was harder work than had been anticipated, for though the currentclose in shore was slack, it was very difficult to keep at a respectabledistance from the bank as they glided down-stream, while every now andthen there was a swirl in the water suggesting that one of the greatreptiles had been disturbed.

  But still the adventurers progressed, and their leader was keenly on thealert, looking out for the lights of the anchored vessels, ready toraise his false alarm as soon as he got abreast.

  But he looked in vain; the Spaniards had taken the precaution to covertheir riding lights, and Joe Cross was about to draw his bow at aventure, when a sharp shock which made the boat thrill suggested thatthey had struck upon a floating tree trunk, washed probably out of thebank during the past flood.

  But the next moment they were aware that the boat's stem had come incontact with one of the crocodiles, which gave a tremendous plunge andbegan to send the water flying in all directions as it beat heavily uponthe surface with its tail.

  "Starn all!" roared Joe Cross involuntarily, and then recollectinghimself, he roared out, "Pull, lads! Pull for your lives!" For a lightsuddenly appeared some thirty or forty yards to their left, followed byanother lower down the river.

  There was the buzz of voices upon the anchored vessels' decks, and Joekept on yelling wildly to the men to pull, the noise and excitementbeing increased by the reports of muskets fired at them in a hurriedungoverned way, the flashes of light giving them faint instantaneousglimpses of the vessels and the faces of the men on board.

  "Steady, my lads, steady! Ease off," said Joe, "gently. We have got tocome back again, you know, so we needn't go too far. Two or threecables' lengths is plenty. How do you think we're getting on, sir?"

  "Is it possible they may come in pursuit?" whispered the doctor.

  "Nay, sir, I don't think it's likely. If it was us aboard thoseschooners we should think that we--meaning us--there, sir--you know whatI mean--we should think t'other side was making for the sea. Well,that's what they think, and now, sir, if they'll only show their lightsfor the rest of the night, why, so much the better for we."

  "I don't see why, Joe," said Rodd, after a few minutes' thought.

  "Well, I'll tell you, my lad," whispered Joe.--"Steady there--steady! Iam going to lower down the grapnel, for I dursen't run in among thetrees. They'd crackle too much if we tried to moor to a branch, and wedon't want to capsize. Harry Briggs, look alive, and drop the flukesoverboard; make fast, and let us swing."

  This was all done almost without a sound, and just then a faint gleam oflight as the boat swung round showed them that certainly one of theanchored vessels was still showing her light, while as it swung round alittle farther there were a couple more gleams higher up, as of distantstars.

  "That's all right, gentlemen. Now, Mr Rodd, sir, I haven't answeredyour question. Here's just enough breeze blowing to make me alter myplans, so after a bit we'll step the mast again and have the sail readyfor hoisting, for we shall be able, with the lights to guide us, to sailclose up under the farther shore and come down again from just the waythey don't expect, run the boat alongside our schooner, and then one onus will hold on by the boat-hook, while with the rest it's all aboard,and the schooner's ours."

  That night seemed to Rodd almost as long, at times longer than the onehe had passed in the tree. But here it certainly was shorter, as heafterwards declared, for about a couple of hours before daylight Joewhispered his belief that they had none of them heard the slightestsound from the direction of the lights, that if any one on board theschooner's deck would be sleeping it would be then, and that they muststart at once.

  There was no question of all being ready, and at the whispered ordersHarry Briggs hauled softly upon the grapnel line, while very slowly andsilently the yard ran up the little mast, and the boat began to careenover as the sail filled.

  Then with Joe Cross at the tiller she began to glide up-stream, thegrapnel was lifted on board without a sound, and silently and steadilythey began to cross the river diagonally till they were as near as thesteersman dared lay the little craft to the farther shore.

  Under his skilful management all went well, and so silently that nothingbut the faint pattering lap of the water against the bows could beheard.

  To the two lads, though, that sounded unusually loud, as they croucheddown involuntarily but quite unnecessarily lower and lower in the boatlest they should be seen, the light hoisted in each schooner seemingbound to show the white sail to the watch of each vessel in turn.

  But no alarm was raised; not a sound reached the adventurers, and toRodd it seemed as if, after terrible periods of agony, three heavy loadshad been lifted from his breast. He wanted to whisper a few words toMorny, who all through had been seated by his side, but nothing but thepressure of hand upon arm passed between them, while they could hardlyhear the doctor breathe.

  At last, though, that period of the terrible suspense was at an end, andthe third light they had passed, that of the _Maid of Salcombe_, wasbeginning to grow fainter, and being left behind.

  "Now, what next?" thought Rodd. "How much longer shall we have to waitbefore the attack is made?"

  The answer came very shortly after, for Joe Cross bore lightly upon thetiller, sent the boat gliding round in a wide circle which ended bybringing the three mooring lights they had left behind all in a line,and then as they began to glide down-stream he whispered--

  "It's now or never, sir.--Cutlashes, my lads; in five minutes we shallbe alongside. You, Harry Briggs, shy the grapnel on deck and make fast;we shall soon be all aboard. Then come and help us all you can."

  There was a low deep breath like a thrill passing through the boat, apeculiar sound of movement which Rodd knew was the men drawing theircutlasses, and then as his heart went heavily thump, thump, thump withinhis breast, he felt that two hands were seeking for his, and as heraised it towards the right it was grasped firmly a moment by UnclePaul's, and the next moment, as it was released, by that of Morny.

  It was short work, for the boat was gliding steadily down, and directlyafter the lad felt Joe Cross bending over him.

  "She's just right, sir," he whispered. "Ketch hold of the tiller, andkeep her as she is. I must go for'ard now to lead."

  The boat swayed a little as the man stepped between his mates to thefront. Then as soon as the distance was considered right a lightrattling sound was heard, and Rodd was conscious of the sail beinglowered, though he could see nothing of it, while almost the next minutethere was a faint shock as the boat glided against the side of theschooner.

  Then Joe Cross's cry, "All aboard!" rang out, followed by a stentoriancheer, and amidst the rush and hurry the tiller slipped from the boy'shand and he was climbing over the thwarts to spring into thefore-chains. Then he tottered as if about to fall back into the boat,but a big hand grasped him by the shoulder, steadied him for a moment,and then he was with the little party dashing side by side into whatseemed to be a chaos of savage yells and shrieks which rose in wildconfusion from the gang of Spaniards who had sprung up from their sleep,where they lay scattered about the deck.

  English shouts to come on, Spanish yells, wild mongrel cries, a shriekor two of despair, a heavy plunge followed by another and another,savage blows, and utterances such as fierce men make in the wildculmination of their rage; then plunge after plunge in the wateralongside and astern, the splash of swimmers, strange lashings about inthe river, followed by shrieks and gurgling cries, and then, heard overall, the combined voices of so many stout Englishmen in a fierce--

  "_Hurrah_!"

  "Now then, all of you," shouted Joe Cross. "There's a lot
of them downbelow. Close that cabin hatch. Two on you to the fo'c'sle; serve thatthe same. If you run against anybody in the dark, tell the beggar he'llbe safer overboard than here."

  But there proved to be no one below in the men's quarters, and aftermaking quite sure the two men returned to their comrades. Then--

  "Where's Mr Rodd?" shouted Joe.

  "Here, Joe," came out of the darkness.

  "Mr Morny?"

  "I'm here," came in a breathless voice.

  "And the doctor?"

  "Helpless, Joe. My ankle's sprained."

  "Bad luck to it," cried the man. "Where's Harry Briggs?"

  "All right, mate," came in a gruff surly voice; "but you needn't havebeen in such a hurry to get it done."

  "Hurry?" cried Joe. "Why, it's only just in time. Later than wethought. It's getting light. Now then, who else is hurt?"

  There was a growl or two, and Joe shouted again--

  "Is any one killed? Bah! Won't say so if he is! What about that boat,Harry?"

  "She's fast enough, messmate."

  "Hah! That's right. Now then, hold hard a moment. Hear 'em aboard theother boats?"

  The question was unnecessary, for shouts and yells for help wereevidently rising from men who had swum down-stream to the sides of theirconsorts, and ceased as they were dragged on board. But a low buzzingmurmur kept on, as from a couple of wildly-excited crowds.

  Then a sharp shrill voice began giving orders in Spanish, one beingfollowed up with a pistol shot, which was succeeded by a yell and apartial cessation of the buzz of excitement that sounded as if comingfrom a swarm of human hornets.

  "That was the Spanish captain's voice, I am sure," cried Rodd.

  "Eight, sir," shouted Joe. "I'd swear to it. Well, he's getting partof his dose. Oh, if it wasn't so dark! Big gun's crew!" he cried. "Isthe tackle with her?"

  "Ay, ay!" came in answer, after a short bustle of movement, in whichtrained men took their places.

  "Here, run the rammer down her throat, my lads. She may be loaded."

  There was the sound of the stout ash staff passing down the bore of thegun, and the answer came--

  "Right!"

  "Good," replied Joe. "Lower down that light. We must use that--if wefire. But we want fresh charges, and there will be no more here."

  There was a quick search made, but without result, and Joe Cross stoodsilent for a few moments.

  "Well," cried the doctor, "why don't you send below, to the magazine?"

  "Cabin hatch is closed, sir, and some of the slavers are below. Thisway, my lads--cutlashes. We must have them out."

  "Of course!" cried Rodd excitedly, and Morny uttered a suppressed hiss,as he pressed forward, sword in hand.

  "Yes, gentlemen," said Joe; "it's their doing, and they must chance thecrocs, for we must clear the vessel before it's broad day."

  At that moment there was a crashing sound as if the cabin hatch wasbeing forced open, and as Joe Cross, followed by the rest, dashed aft,there was a yell, a rush, and some eight or ten of the mongrel enemyforced their way on deck, to be met at once by the schooner's crew, whocharged at them as men-of-war's men know how to charge.

  There was a short encounter, the clash of steel against steel, and thefresh-comers who had taken refuge below began to give way, and in acouple of minutes more the deck was once more cleared, the splashing andplunging of swimming men making for the rapidly dimming light of thenext schooner being followed by more blood-curdling yells and groans,mingled with cries for help, while a few minutes later a boat could befaintly seen and efforts were evidently being made to drag the swimmerson board.

  "Now then for the gun!" cried Joe.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Rodd, who with Morny kept close to thecoxswain's side.

  "Fight, sir," replied Cross fiercely, "before they begin to fight us.See to the other guns, my lads. The way's open to the magazine now.It'll be light directly, and that Spanish skipper won't leave us longbefore he begins.--There, what did I say?"

  For all at once the meaning of the Spaniards' orders, enforced by apistol shot, was explained by a bright flash, the roar of a heavy gun,and the whistle of a shot just over the speaker's head.

  A dead silence now fell for a few moments upon the deck of the _Maid ofSalcombe_. There was a little bustle of preparation, and then a periodof waiting, during which Joe Cross carefully sighted the loaded gun,depressing her muzzle all he could, the two lads the while listeningexcitedly to the stir and orders which came from the Spanishthree-master's deck.

  "Oh, fire, Joe--fire!" whispered Rodd. "We shall have another shot fromher directly."

  "Yes, my lad, I know; but I want to make sure of a little morelight.--_Fire_!" he said, directly afterwards.

  A spark was seen to sink at once upon the touch-hole of the long gun,there was a deep roar as she seemed to leap from the deck, a heavyinstantaneous crash, and then a return shot which went wide of theirschooner.

  "You've hit, Joe," cried Rodd excitedly, as he stood amidst the smoke,which began to spread about where they gathered.

  "Yes, sir, I hit," said the man, with a half-laugh, as the crew of thegun busied themselves sponging out and preparing to re-load. "Theypretty well filled her to the muzzle, but they got what they meant forus. But hallo! what's the meaning of this 'ere? What's the matter withus now?"

  Only this, that the _Maid of Salcombe_ was adrift and threatening, ifsomething were not done to bring her up, to drift ashore not far fromwhere the faint morning light revealed the brig lying right over on herside as helpless as any hulk.

  Joe Cross, closely followed by the lads, ran forward to the bows, Roddone side, Joe and Morny the other.

  "Why, the cable must have broke adrift," cried the coxswain, leaningover, to see that the great rope was hanging down straight from thestarboard hawse-hole.

  "Cut, Joe, cut," shouted Rodd. "Quick! Look out!" For as he hadleaned over the bulwarks just above the larboard hawse-hole, a greatswarthy mulatto, knife in hand, was climbing up, and as soon as hecaught sight of the lad he made for him at once.

  Rodd stood upon his guard and managed to strike aside the thrust made athim by the mulatto; but the latter was lithe and active as a monkey. Hestruck at the boy again, and as Rodd gave way the fellow threw himselfon to the rail and sprang over, but only to be cut down by Joe Cross,who had answered the boy's call.

  It was the saving of Rodd's life, but the mulatto was dangerous still,and recovering himself he made a dash at Morny, who stepped aside,while, with all the ferociousness of a Malay running amok, the mansprang aft, avoided two or three cuts made at him by the sailors, andthen plunged over the side, to begin swimming towards the three-master,which was in the act of sending another shot at the doctor's vessel.

  This one crashed through the bulwarks, sending the splinters flying inall directions, and making the coxswain shout to his men to stand firm,as, seeing their perilous position, he hurried to their help, for thebig schooner had slipped her cable, a sail had been run up, and she wasbeginning to answer her helm, while the _Maid of Salcombe_ was driftinghelplessly towards the shore.

  It was a choice between hoisting sail and letting go another anchorwhile the chance was there, as the two vessels forged slowly aheadpreparing to send in another shot.

  This latter in his excitement Joe Cross essayed to do, striking theirenemy just at the water-line as she passed them, while now the slaver'ssister craft began firing as she too, hoisting sail, was comingup-stream.

  "Ah!" panted the sailor, as he turned to Uncle Paul. "Here's yourpeaceful schooner, sir, as trades in palm-oil! Why, they are piratesand slavers, sir, and I've done it now. Too late, my lads--too late!"he cried to the men, who had let go the other anchor. "Nothing can saveus now. We are going ashore."

  "Oh, don't give up, man," cried the doctor angrily.

  "I won't, sir. None of us will; but--There, I said as much. We justtouched bottom then. There she goes again! And in another minute wes
hall be fast in the mud, and they'll have nothing to do but powder awayat us till we are a wreck. Slew that there gun round, boys, and let'sgive her another shot or two while there's a chance."

  "No, no," cried Rodd. "Not at that! Fire at the other. Can't you see,Joe? Uncle! Morny! The three-master's going down!"

  It was quite true, for the first shot from the _Maid of Salcombe_, thatsent from the long gun, crammed as Joe had said almost to the muzzle,had torn into the slaver just below water-line. The second had beenjust as effective in its aim, the water had been pouring in ever since,and now, as she was evidently settling down by the head, her guns wereforsaken, all discipline was at an end, and her crew had made a rush forthe boats, which were soon after overcrowded and being pushed off bytheir occupants to make for the third schooner. This last, fairly wellmanaged, came slowly on, firing from time to time at the English craft,which, had now swung round upon her heel and lay bowsprit to the shorein a falling tide.

  As far as was possible her guns were slewed round, and a steady reply tothe enemy's fire was kept up; but her doom seemed to be sealed, theSpaniard being able to choose her own position, while minute by minutethe English vessel was getting more helpless.

  "Well, gentlemen, what's it to be?" said Joe, as he stood coolly wipingthe blackened perspiration from his forehead.

  "Keep on firing to the last," said the doctor sternly. "Better die likemen than surrender and be murdered, for after what has passed there canbe no mercy here."

  "That's right, sir," said the man, "but there's the young gentlemen, andwe don't any of us want to die if we can help it."

  "Why, you are not beaten, are you, Joe?" cried Rodd fiercely.

  "Not a bit of it, sir, but here's our schooner, and there's Mr Morny'sbrig. It's no use to make an ugly face over a nasty dose. We arebeaten, and nothing that we could do could keep that slaver from seeingthat she's won."

  "Go on firing, and sink her," cried Rodd. "Look at the other one," andhe pointed to the three-master, whose decks looked as if they wereawash.

  "Well, sir, that's what we have been trying to do; but she won't sink.How so be, here goes, my lad, for another try, and--What's the meaningof that?"

  For all at once through the smoke that rose from the schooner they couldsee that something fresh had taken place--what, they could not make out,but it was something important, and one of the enemy's smaller guns wasfired in the other direction.

  "Why, there must be help coming from down the river," cried the doctorexcitedly. "Yes, hark at that!"

  For in reply to the schooner's gun a desultory series of musket shotsbegan to ring out, and encouraged by this and the knowledge that helpmust be at hand, the little English crew sent forth a cheer, dragged thelong gun more and more round, and sent one of the most successful shotsthey had fired crash into the enemy's stern.

  To the astonishment of all, the firing on board the enemy ceased;another sail was run up, and as it filled the schooner swung round uponanother tack and began to sail steadily down the river, clearing the wayfor those on board the English vessel to see a couple of well-mannedboats being rowed steadily up-stream, with men in the stern-sheetskeeping up a musketry fire.

  "Quick!" shouted Moray. "Another shot! Friends! Friends!"

  "Yes, sir," said Joe quietly, "but I don't see how it's to be done.Yes, we might do it from a little gun;" and he ran with a part of thecrew to try and slew her round.

  "No good, gentlemen," he said. "By the time we can get a shot off weshall risk hitting those boats, whatever they are, and they are comingto our help. Here, hasn't anybody got a glass?"

  "No," cried Rodd; "it was left in the boat."

  "Well, there's one in the cabin. Here, one of you run down."

  "No, no," cried Morny excitedly; "they're our boats. Look! That's myfather in one," he cried hysterically.

  "And if that aren't our old man in the other my name aren't Joe Cross!"