or any reasonable sum of money. If I know
anything about vessels, she is a Cuban trader bound to New York. Ease
the _Osprey_ up a bit. Don't crowd her so heavy, and the chase will pass
by within half a mile of us. But we mustn't let her get by, for she is a
trotter, and every inch of her muslin is drawing beautifully."

While the second mate set about obeying the last order, the captain
addressed some others to the first officer, and in a remarkably brief
time, considering their short experience on board the privateer, her
crew had cast loose the bow gun and trained it over the port side, the
magazine and shell-rooms had been opened and lighted, and Tierney, who
acted in the double capacity of captain of the bow gun and drill-master
to the crews of both, had driven home a five-second shrapnel.

"All ready forward, sir," said he.

"Throw that piece of canvas back over the gun to hide it," commanded
Captain Beardsley. "Send all the men below that are not needed on deck.
Gray, go aft and stand by to run up the Yankee flag when I tell you."

The topsail schooner could be plainly seen now, and Marcy was sailor
enough to note that if her captain did not suspect there was something
wrong, he acted like it. This could hardly be wondered at, for taking
into consideration the "natty" appearance of the privateer, the lubberly
way in which she was sailed, standing so far off wind when she ought to
have been close to it if she were sailing her course, was enough to
excite anybody's suspicions. Two of her officers were in the rigging,
and Captain Beardsley, who was mentally calculating her chances for
running by his own vessel in case she made the attempt, took his glass
from his eye long enough to remark:

"They don't quite like our looks, do they? That proves that they are
from some near port, and heard something about privateers before they
sailed. I heard that parties in New Orleans had steamers afloat a week
ago. Marcy, show them the Yankee flag and see if that won't quiet their
feelings."

"If that isn't stealing the livery of Heaven to serve the Evil One in I
don't want a cent," said Marcy, to himself, as with an "Aye, aye, sir,"
he obeyed the order that was intended to lure the stranger to her
destruction. At the same moment her own colors, the Stars and Stripes,
were run up to the peak.

But the sight of the friendly flag did not seem to allay the suspicions
of those on board the topsail schooner. To the great surpris