skipper. "Let the wood be till I gives ye
the word. She bes fast on the rocks, but she bain't busted yet."

"An' she'll not bust inside a week, i' this sea," said one of the men.
"Sure, skipper, the crew'll be comin' ashore i' their boats afore long.
An' they have their muskets an' cutlasses wid them, ye kin lay to that.
None but fools would come ashore on this coast, from a wreck, widout
their weepons."

"Aye, an' they'll be carryin' their gold an' sich, too," said the
skipper. "Lads, we'll do our best--an' that bain't fightin' an' killin',
i' this case, but the usin' o' our wits. Bill Brennen, tell off ten men
an' take 'em along the path to the south'ard wid ye. Lay down i' the
spruce-tuck alongside the path, about t'ree miles along, an' wait till
these folks from the ship comes up to ye, wid four or five o' our own
lads a-leadin' the way wid lanterns. They'll be totin' a power o'
val'able gear along wid them, ye kin lay to that! Lep out onto 'em,
widout a word, snatch the gear an' run fair south along the track,
yellin' like hell. Then stow the noise all of a suddent, get clear o'
the track an' work back to this Chance Along wid the gear. Don't bat any
o' the ship's crew over the head if ye bain't forced to it. The gear bes
the t'ing we wants, lads."

"Aye, skipper, aye--but will the sailormen be a-totin' their gear that
a-way?" returned Bill.

"Sure, b'y, for I'll tell 'em as we bes from Nap Harbor, an' I'll send
four lads to show 'em the way. After ye take their gear--as much as ye
kin get quick and easy--they'll follow ye along the path to try to catch
ye," replied Black Dennis Nolan.

Bill Brennen went up the twisty path to the barren, and along the edge
of the cliff to the southward, followed by ten sturdy fellows armed with
long clubs of birch-wood. Of the nine men remaining with the skipper,
six were sent, along with the gear, to hide behind the boulders and
clumps of bush on the steep slope. The skipper cautioned them to lie
low and keep quiet.

"Ahoy, there!" bellowed the skipper.

"Ahoy! Can't you show a light?" came the reply, from the fog.

"Aye, aye, sir. Bes ye on the rocks?"

"Lord, yes! Show a light, man, for Heaven's sake, so we can get the boat
away. Her back's broken and her bows stove in. She's breaking up quick."

The skipper and his three companions speedily made a small heap from the
big pile of driftwood on the shingle, and lit it from the candle of a
lantern. They poured a tin of