"Hard-a-port your helm," roared Barney to the man at the wheel. "Do you
want her to run aboard us?"

The order was heard on board the enemy, and the captain gave orders to
meet the expected movement. But hard-a-starboard went the helm, and the
_Hyder Ali_ swung round in front of the enemy, whose bowsprit caught and
became entangled in her fore-rigging.

This gave the American ship a raking position, and in a moment the grim
tars were hard at work with their guns. Broadsides were poured in as
fast as they could load and fire, and every shot swept from bow to
stern. The Englishman, though he had double the weight of metal, could
not get out of the awkward position in which Barney had caught him, and
his guns did little harm. In less than half an hour down went his flag.

It was none too soon. The frigate had seen the fight from a distance,
and was making all haste to get out of its awkward position and take a
hand in the game. Barney did not even wait to ask the name of his prize,
but put a crew on board and bade them make all haste to Philadelphia.

He followed, steering now for the _Fair American_. But the privateer
captain had seen the fate of the _General Monk_ and concluded that he
had business elsewhere. So he ran away instead of fighting, and soon ran
ashore. The _Hyder Ali_ left him there and made all haste up stream. The
frigate had by this time got out of her side channel, and was coming up
under full sail. So Captain Barney crowded on all sail also and fled
away after his prize.

If the frigate had got within gunshot it would soon have settled the
question, for it could have sunk the _Hyder Ali_ with a broadside. But
it was not fast enough, and after a speedy run the victor and her prize
drew up beside a Philadelphia wharf.

Never had the good people of the Quaker City gazed on such a sight as
now met their eyes. Nothing had been done to remove the marks of battle.
The ships came in as they had left the fight. Shattered bulwarks, ragged
rents in the hulls, sails in tatters and drooping cordage told the story
of the desperate battle.

And the decks presented a terrible picture. Blood was everywhere. On the
_General Monk_ were stretched the dead bodies of twenty men, while
twenty-six wounded lay groaning below. The _Hyder Ali_ had suffered much
less, having but four killed and eleven wounded.

In all the Revolutionary War there have been few more brilliant actions;
and his victory gave Joshua Barney a