pidly lowered from the war ship to rescue the
struggling marines from the water into which Sam had so
unceremoniously thrown them.

"Three cheers for our naval victory, and three more for our
commodore!" called out Billy Bowlegs, and the response came quickly.

"It's too soon to cheer," said Sam. "We're not out of the scrape yet."

The next moment a puff of smoke showed itself on the side of the war
ship and a shower of grape shot whizzed angrily around the boat. A
second and a third discharge followed, and then came solid shot,
sixty-four pounders, howling like demons over the boys' heads, and
plowing the water all around them. Their speed quickly took them out
of range, however, and the firing ceased.

They now had time to look about them and estimate damages. None of the
solid shot had taken effect, but three of the grape shot had struck
the boat, greatly marring her beauty, but doing her no serious damage.

"Are any of you hurt?" asked Sam. All the boys reported themselves
well.

"Then make a place for me in the middle of the boat, where I can lie
down," replied Sam, "I'm wounded."

"Where?"

"How?"

"Not badly, I hope, Sam?" the boys answered quickly.

"I'm hurt in two places. They shot me as we ran over that boat," said
Sam, "but not very badly, I think. I'm faint, however," and as he lay
down in the boat he lost consciousness.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CAPTAIN SAM.

The boys were now badly frightened, and the more so because they did
not know what to do for their chief, who lay dying, as they supposed.
His left hand and shoulder were bleeding profusely, and Tom,
remembering some instructions that Sam had once given him[3] with
respect to the stopping of a flow of blood, at once examined the
wounds, to discover their nature. Two fingers of Sam's left hand had
been carried away, and a deep flesh wound showed itself in his
shoulder. By the use of a handkerchief or two Tom soon succeeded in
staunching the flow of blood, while one of the other boys sailed the
boat. After a little while the dashing rain revived the wounded boy,
and while he was still very weak, he was able, within an hour, to
take the direction of affairs into his own hands again.

[Footnote 3: See "The Big Brother" Chapter 3.]

But what mischief maybe done in an hour! The boys had never once
thought of anything but Sam, during all that time, and they had been
sailing for an hour straight out into the Gulf of Mexico, at a furious
ra