ip, and owner of a fair brick house
in the Green Lane of Boston"--at that time the Beacon Street of the
plucky little town.

Ten years went by, and Phips seemed but little nearer the realization
of his dreams than while tending sheep on the hill-sides of Maine, when
the prospect suddenly brightened in an unexpected quarter. This was the
time when Spanish and Portuguese galleons were crossing the ocean laden
with silver from Potosi and diamonds from Brazil. Pirates and
privateers scoured the seas to rob the treasure-ships, and great
expeditions were sent out by England in war times for the same purpose.
The imaginations of men ran riot during this feverish state of things,
and people were ready to believe almost any yarn "spun" in the
forecastle.

Phips was just the man to be moved by such tales, and, when he learned
of a certain rich wreck on the Bahamas, he at once fitted out a small
vessel and went in search of it. He found and recovered the treasure,
but the amount was small, being only large enough to whet his appetite
for more.

While at the Bahamas, he was told of another Spanish vessel, wrecked
off Puerto Plata more than fifty years before, with a much larger
treasure. His means not being sufficient for this expedition, Phips
sailed for England and made direct application to the Admiralty to aid
him in his search. So ably did this true son of the sea represent his
cause, that he was given command of the "Rose Algier," a ship mounting
eighteen guns and carrying a hundred men. Thus Phips's first dream came
to pass; he was now captain of a king's ship, with a roving commission.

The exact position of the wreck was unknown, and the untrustworthy
character of the crew added great difficulties to the undertaking. It
should be remembered, also, that diving-bells, diving-armor, and the
like, were then unknown. But the courage and indomitable perseverance
of Phips now came into play, and he had a capital chance to show the
stuff of which he was made.

Soon after they had sailed, the crew came aft, armed, and determined to
force Phips to yield to their wishes, which probably were that they
should all turn pirates. Without giving them time to deliberate, Phips
flew at their leader, hurled him to the deck and dispatched him on the
spot--a deed so prompt and daring that it awed the mutineers into
submission for the time. One who has never seen a mutiny at sea can
form but little idea of its desperate character, and the