by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER II SCULLING IN THE NIGHT
The thing Ruth saw on the water was startling, mysterious. Nothing quitelike it had ever come into her life before. She could not believe hereyes. Yet she dared not doubt them. A moment before she had dreamed ofpirates with pistols in their belts. Now out there on the sea they were,or at least seemed to be, in real life. There could be no denying theexistence of a boat on those black waters of night; a long narrow boatpropelled by six pairs of sweeping oars swinging in perfect rhythm. Thismuch the flare of light had shown her.
More, too; there was no use trying to deny it. She had seen the men onlytoo clearly. Dressed in long, black coats, with red scarfs about theirnecks and broad-brimmed hats on their heads, with their white teethgleaming, they looked fierce enough.
Strangest of all, there were pistols of the ancient sort and long knivesin their belts.
What made her shudder was the sign of skull and cross-bones on the blackflag they carried.
"Pirates! What nonsense!" she thought. "Not been one off the Maine coastin a hundred years." Pausing to listen, she caught again the creak ofoarlocks.
"Betty! Betty!" she whispered frantically. "Hurry! We'll be trapped!"
Poor Betty! She certainly was having her troubles. Frightened half out ofher wits; expecting at any moment to be arrested for trespassing, or whoknows what, she struggled madly with her half dry and much wrinkledgarments.
"It's all my fault," she half sobbed. "I insisted on coming up here. Nowwe shall be caught. I--I hope they don't hang us at the yardarm."
This last, she knew, was nonsense; but in the excitement she was growinga trifle hysterical.
At last, with shoes and stockings in her hands, she emerged from thedoor.
Gripping her arm tight and whispering, "Don't speak! Not a sound!" Ruthled her rapidly to the end of the rope ladder.
"Follow me. Drop in the boat. Sit perfectly still."
Tremblingly, Betty obeyed. Presently they were in the punt. The sound ofrowing came much more clearly now. They could even hear the laboredbreathing of the oarsmen.
Thankful for the darkness, Ruth thrust an oar into a socket at the backof the boat and began wabbling it about in the water. She was sculling,the most silent way to move a boat through the water.
"We-we'll go round the bow," she thought, as a sudden sound set her heartracing.
"If only they don't light another flare!"
With a prayer on her lips which was half supplication for forgiveness andhalf petition for safety, she threw all her superb strength into the taskbefore her.
Many times she had rowed around the _Black Gull_. Never before had itseemed half so far.
Now they had covered half the distance, now three-quarters. And now therecame a panic-inspiring gleam of light on the sea. It lasted a second,then blinked out.
"Only a match." Her heart gave a bound of joy. "But if they strikeanother, if they are attempting to light a flare!" She redoubled herenergy at the oar. Great beads of perspiration stood out on her brow asthey rounded the stern of the ship.
Even then catastrophe threatened, for the ship's anchor chain, touched bythe punt, sent out a rattling sound.
"What was that?" came a bass voice from the sea.
An instant later the sea was all aglow with a second flare. But luck waswith them. They had rounded the ship's hull and were out of sight.
"If they row around her, we are caught," whispered Betty.
Ten seconds passed, twenty, thirty, forty, a minute. Then came the soundsof a boat bumping the ship and of men ascending the rope ladder.
"Not coming!" Ruth breathed a sigh of relief.
"We'll just move back under the stern by the rudder," she whispered amoment later. "Even if they look over the side they won't be able to seeus there."
"Who-who are they?" Betty's question carried a thrill.
"I don't know."
"What do they look like?"
Ruth told her.
"Oh, oh!" Betty barely suppressed a gasp.
"But they can't be!" she said the next moment.
"They are," said Ruth. "And they are going to man the _Black Gull_ andsail her away. The wind is rising. There's plenty of sail. A sail boatmakes no noise. What's to hinder?"
"What could they want with her?"
"Don't know; for exhibition, sea pageant, moving pictures, or something.Captain Munson, the owner, has been offered ten thousand dollars for her.Moving picture company wants her. She's the last six-master in theworld."
"Betty," she whispered, impressively, after there had been time forthought, "we've got to do something. We can't let the _Black Gull_ golike this. The _Black Gull_ doesn't belong just to Captain Munson. Shebelongs to all us Maine folks. That's why he won't sell her. She standsfor something, for a grand and glorious past, the past of our coast andof the most wonderful state in the Union.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," she whispered. "They're all on board now.We'll scull around and get their boat. We'll tow it ashore so they can'tescape, then spread the alarm. Even if they get out to sea, the fastcutter will catch them and bring them back."
"I h-hope," chattered Betty, half beside herself with fear, "that theydon't catch us. I wouldn't like to walk the plank."
"They won't," said Ruth. There was an air of conviction in her tone. Alasfor conviction.
Once more their punt, creeping forward in the dark, rounded the ship'shull and came at last to a point but a boat's length from a long, darkbulk just ahead.
"Their boat," thought Ruth. "We'll be away in a moment." But they werenot.
That they were taking grave chances, Ruth knew right well. Her heart wasin her throat as she sent her punt gliding through the dark. Onlythoughts of her beloved Maine and the ancient six-master that stood forso much that was grand and glorious in the past could have induced her torun the risk. Run the risk she did. Trouble came sooner than she dreamed.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the dim light told her that there wasno one in the long boat that had brought the black-robed crew to theship.
Her relief was short lived. She had succeeded in untying the painter ofthat other boat and swinging it half about, when there came a harshjangling of chains. A rusty chain dangling from the side of the ship hadcaught in the stern of the long boat and, slipping free, had gonethudding against the hull. Ten seconds of suspense ended with a gruff:
"Who's there?" and the sudden flash of a brilliant electric torch whichbrought the two girls out in bold relief.
At once there followed exclamations of astonishment as dark figurescrowded the deck above them.
"Trying to steal our boat," said one.
"Ought to walk the plank," came from another.
"Up with 'em!" said another, placing a foot on the top rung of theladder.
Ruth sat there, red-faced, defiant. Betty was beginning to cry softly,when a fourth person spoke up suddenly:
"Lay off it, boys! Can't you see they're just girls? I don't know whatthey are about, but I'm bound to say it can't be anything wrong. One of'em is Tom Bracket's girl. I know her well."
Ruth's heart gave a great leap of joy. She had recognized her champion'svoice. He was Patrick O'Connor, the skipper of a sea-going tug, one ofher father's good friends.
At once her head was in a whirl. What could it all mean? Captain O'Connordressed as a pirate and aiding in a night raid of the harbor? The thingseemed impossible.
Her thoughts were broken short off by the voice of the man on the ladder.
"I'm still in favor of havin' 'em tell their story. An' mebby girls don'tcare for pie and hot coffee an' the like."
"We'll leave it to them," said Captain O'Connor. "If they want to come upwe'll be glad to have them. If they don't, then they have their punt. Letthem go. What do you say, girls?"
"Come on," said Ruth. There was a large lump in her throat. "We've got togo up. 'Twon't do to let them misunderstand."
Truth was, there were
things she did not understand and that she wanteddreadfully to know about.
So, once more, hand over hand, they went up the rope ladder and tumbledin upon the deck.
Ten minutes later the two girls found themselves seated one on eitherside of Captain O'Connor before the massive mahogany table in the cabinof the _Black Gull_.
The table was piled high with good things to eat. A great copper kettlefilled with doughnuts, a basket of sandwiches, two hams roasted whole, asteaming tank of coffee, and pies without end, graced the board. A merryband of pirates, surely. Most surprising of all was the fact that thepirate at the head of the table, blackest and fiercest of them all, wasnone other than Captain Munson, owner of the _Black Gull_.
"Now," said Captain Munson, and there was a friendly smile on hisformidable face, "I am sure you will enjoy the meal more fully if youtell us first why you were about to take our boat."
"Rest assured," he said, as he saw the crimson flush on Ruth's cheek,"you stand absolved. You shall not walk the plank."
