stice in the land; for they had only asserted their manhood and
repressed inhuman brutality.

The pilot went forward, talked awhile with the three, and left them
with joyous faces. An hour later he pointed out the _Almena's_ number
flying from the masthead of the steamer.

"He's telling on you, boys," he said. "He knew you when you helped him,
and used you, of course. Your reputation's pretty bad on the high seas.
See that signal-station ashore there? Well, they're telegraphing now
that the pirate _Almena_ is coming in. You'll see a police boat at
quarantine."

He was but partly right. Not only a police boat, but an outward-bound
man-of-war and an incoming revenue cutter escorted the ship to
quarantine, where the tow-line was cast off, and an anchor dropped.
Then, in the persons of a scandalized health-officer, a naval captain,
a revenue-marine lieutenant, and a purple-faced sergeant of the
steamboat squad, the power of the law was rehabilitated on the
_Almena's_ quarter-deck, and the strong hand of the law closed down on
her unruly crew. With blank faces, they discarded--to shirts, trousers,
and boots--the slop-chest clothing which belonged to the triumphant
Captain Benson, and descended the side to the police boat, which
immediately steamed away. Then a chuckling trio entered the ship's
cabin, and ordered the steward to bring them something to eat.

* * * * *

Now, there is no record either in the reports for that year of the
police department, or from any official babbling, or from later yarns
spun by the sixteen prisoners, of what really occurred on the deck of
that steamer while she was going up the bay. Newspapers of the time
gave generous space to speculations written up on the facts discovered
by reporters; but nothing was ever proved. The facts were few. A tug
met the steamer in the Narrows about a quarter to twelve that morning,
and her captain, on being questioned, declared that all seemed well
with her. The prisoners were grouped forward, guarded by eight officers
and a sergeant. A little after twelve o'clock a Battery boatman
observed her coming, and hied him around to the police dock to have a
look at the murderous pirates he had heard about, only to see her
heading up the North River, past the Battery. A watchman on the
elevator docks at Sixty-third Street observed her charging up the river
a little later in the afternoon, wondered why, and spoke of it. The
c