four men were selected, and Abraham Whipple, who was
afterward one of the first captains in the American navy, took command.
Some of the men had guns, but their principal weapons were paving stones
and clubs.

It was about two o'clock in the morning when this small fleet came
within hail of the _Gaspee_. She was fast enough yet, though she was
beginning to lift with the rising tide. An hour or two more might have
set her afloat.

A sentinel who was pacing the deck hailed the boats when they came near.

"Who comes there?" he cried.

A shower of paving stones that rattled on the deck of the _Gaspee_ was
the only answer. Up came the captain and crew, like bees from a hive
that has been disturbed.

"I want to come on board," said Captain Whipple.

"Stand off. You can't come aboard," answered Captain Duddingstone.

He fired a pistol. A shot from one of the guns on the boats replied. The
British captain fell with a bullet in his side.

"I am sheriff of the County of Kent," cried one of the leaders in the
boats. "I am come for the captain of this vessel. Have him I will, dead
or alive. Men, to your oars!"

On came the boats, up the sides of the vessel clambered the men, over
the rails they passed. The sailors showed fight, but they were soon
knocked down and secured. The proud _Gaspee_ was in the hands of the
despised Yankees.

As the captors were tying the crew, a surgeon who was in the boats was
called on deck.

"What do you want, Mr. Brown?" he asked.

"Don't call names, man," cried Brown. "Go into the cabin. There is a
wounded man there who may bleed to death."

The surgeon was needed, for Captain Duddingstone was bleeding freely.
The surgeon, finding no cloth for bandages, tore his own shirt into
strips for this purpose, and soon had the bleeding stopped. The captain
was gently lowered into one of the boats and rowed up to Providence.

The wounded man away, the captors began their work. Rushing through the
vessel, they made havoc of furniture and trappings. There were some
bottles of liquor in the captain's cabin, and some of the men made a
rush for these; but the surgeon smashed them with the heels of his
boots. That was not the time or place for drunken men.

This done, the _Gaspee_ was set on fire, and was soon wrapped in flames.
The men rowed their boats some distance out, and there rested on their
oars, watching the flames as they shot up masts and rigging. Not until
the loaded guns went off, one a