ter them before they could reach the
door. "Here, Howland," he cried, holding to Bob with one hand and
seizing the ex-pirate's arm with the other. "Don't you try to leave yet.
Gad, man, this is the happiest hour I've had in years. I owe you so much
that it can't be put in figures. And this tall lad is Jeremy that you've
told me of. Look at the sunburn on the pair of 'em--pretty desperate
characters to have aboard, I'm afraid!"

His roar of laughter was joined by the other three, as he showed the way
to a couple of roomy berths, built in at the end of the cabin. The two
boys were left, after a final boisterous "Good-night," and proceeded to
make themselves snug between the linen sheets. Jeremy had never slept in
such luxury in his whole life, and moved gingerly for fear of hurting
something. At last their exhilaration subsided enough for the rescued
lads to go to sleep once more. Jeremy's last thought was a half-mournful
one as he wondered how long it must be before he, too, could throw
himself against the broad homespun wall of his father's breast.

CHAPTER XXI

When they woke it was to the regular heave and lurch of a sailing vessel
in motion, and Jeremy, looking out the port, beheld the crisp, sparkling
blue of open sea.

There were two suits of every-day clothes upon the cabin bench and into
these the boys climbed, impatient to get out on deck. The ship was the
big merchantman, _Indian Queen_, though Bob, used as he was to her
appearance, would hardly have known her in her new guise. Long lines of
black cannon grimly faced the open ports along either side. The rail had
been built up solidly to a height of about six feet, so that the main
deck was now a typical gun deck, open overhead. Her regular crew of
seasoned mariners was augmented by as many more longshoremen, all good
men, picked for their courage and hand-to-hand fighting ability.

Job, who acted as second mate and was in full charge of the gun crews,
took the boys proudly from one big carronade to another, explaining each
improvement which his experience or ingenuity had devised. His chief
pride was the long nine-pounder in the bows. She was a swivel gun set on
bearings so finely adjusted and well-greased that one man could aim
her. Job patted her shiny brass rump lovingly as he looked across the
blue swells ahead. He could hardly wait for the hour when he should set
a match to her breach.

Clarke Curtis joined the group a few minutes later, and