ey
were set on fire. A jolly bonfire they made, too, and as the flames went
up the people cheered lustily.

That was not all. With the high tide the sloop floated off. But it went
ashore again on Goat Island, and the next night some of the people set
it on fire and it was burned to the water's edge. That was the first
American reply to British tyranny. The story of it spread far and wide.
The King's officers did all they could to find and punish the men who
had captured the sloop, but not a man of them could be discovered.
Everybody in the town knew, but no one would tell.

This was only the beginning. The great event was that of the _Gaspee_.
This was a British schooner carrying six cannon, which cruised about
the Bay between Providence and Newport, and made itself so active and so
offensive that the people hated it more than all those that had gone
before. Captain Duddingstone treated every vessel as if it had been a
pirate, and the people were eager to give it the same dose they had
given the _Liberty_.

Their time came in June, 1772. The _Hannah_, a vessel trading between
New York and Providence, came in sight of the _Gaspee_ and was ordered
to stop. But Captain Linzee had a fine breeze and did not care to lose
it. He kept on at full speed, and the _Gaspee_ set out in chase.

It was a very pretty race that was seen that day over the ruffled waters
of the Bay. For twenty-five miles it kept up and the _Hannah_ was still
ahead. Then the two vessels came near to Providence bar.

The Yankee captain now played the British sailors a cute trick. He
slipped on over the bar as if there had been a mile of water under his
keel. The _Gaspee_, not knowing that the _Hannah_ had almost touched
bottom, followed, and in a minute more came bump upon the ground. The
proud war-vessel stuck fast in the mud, while the light-footed Yankee
slid swiftly on to Providence, where the story of the chase and escape
was told to eager ears.

Here was a splendid chance. The _Gaspee_ was aground. Now was the time
to repay Captain Duddingstone for his pride and insolence. That night,
while the people after their day's work were standing and talking about
the news, a man passed down the streets, beating a drum and calling out:

"The _Gaspee is aground_. Who will join in to put an end to her?"

There was no lack of volunteers. Eight large boats had been collected
from the ships in the harbor, and there were soon enough to crowd them
all. Sixty-