d not like to ask the folks there what it
meant. They're strangers mostly, and I sorter scringed against letting
'em see how ignorant I was."

"It's a commission granted by a sovereign of a State to his subjects,
authorizing them to prey upon the property of the subjects of another
State, if they happen to find any at sea," answered Marcy. "That's as
near as I can tell it without looking the matter up."

"It is about what I thought it meant. Now, does that letter or
commission give protection to the crew of the privateer if they happen
to be caught? They won't hang 'em, will they?"

"I don't think they will. A few years ago some European powers tried to
induce Uncle Sam to enter into an agreement to abolish privateering, but
he wouldn't do it. Our private armed vessels gave England a good deal of
trouble while she was trying to whip us, and might do the same thing
again under like circumstances."

"So the United States wouldn't agree to no such bargain," exclaimed Mr.
Beardsley, with something like a sigh of relief. "Then Uncle Sam can't
find fault with us for going into the business, can he?"

"He'll make prisoners of you and destroy or confiscate your vessel, if
he can catch you," replied Marcy.

"_Of_ course. That's to be expected; but he'll have to catch us first,
and even then he won't treat us like we was pirates. That's what I want
to know."

"Why do you ask? Are you interested in the matter?"

"Somewhat," answered the man, with a laugh. "My schooner is fixed over
and fitted with bunks for twenty men and three officers, and I've
bargained for two howitzers in Newborn. That's what I meant when I said
that one man's pizen is another man's meat. Now is the time to slip out
to sea and make a prize or two before that blockade comes and stops the
business."

Marcy was astonished and so was his mother; and neither of them could
imagine why Mr. Beardsley had taken the pains to come to the house and
tell them all this.

"Make hay while the sun shines, eh?" said he, with a chuckle. "I aint
got my commission yet, and can't get it till my bond for five thousand
dollars, which I give to the collector at Wilmington to send to the
Secretary of State, has been approved. I've got to promise to obey the
laws, you know, and that's easy."

"What do you intend to do with your prizes, if you make any?" inquired
Mrs. Gray.

"Take 'em into Newbern and have 'em appraised and sold by a competent
tribunal, whatever that mea