he
coxswain and Stockwell went into the bow of the little steamer to
discuss their situation, which they did very earnestly for a couple of
hours.

"There's the ship!" exclaimed Sanford, as he identified the Young
America, half a mile distant, leading the squadron into the harbor of
Stockholm.

"So it is; now we are in for it. Peaks has come out here with us to
make sure that we don't get away from him," added Stockwell.

"If I had known as much last night as I know now, I would have cleared
out, in spite of consul and police. If we are to be charged with
smashing the second cutter, we shall not go on shore again this
summer."

"That's so. But this boat is not headed for the ship. Peaks don't see
her."

"Yes, he does; there isn't a craft of any sort within five miles of us
that he don't see."

"There's the ship, Mr. Peaks," shouted Stockwell.

"I see her."

But the boatswain continued on his course, paying no attention to the
ship. The squadron disappeared among the islands, and the steamer went
out into the Baltic, keeping well in towards the shore. When any small
schooner appeared, he ran up and examined her very carefully,
overhauling three in this manner in the course of the forenoon. At
noon the boatswain piped all hands to dinner, for he had procured a
supply of provisions at the hotel. Though he had chartered the steamer
with Ole acting as an interpreter, he gave no hint of his plans or
purposes. He made signs to the helmsman where to go, and occasionally
gave directions through Ole.

The fourth small schooner that he examined proved to be the Rensdyr,
and Peaks identified her by seeing Clyde Blacklock, who stood on the
forecastle, looking out for the approaches to Stockholm. Possibly he
had seen the Young America, which passed the schooner, though a mile
distant.

"Lay her alongside that small vessel," said Peaks to Ole.

"That one!" exclaimed Ole, whose brown face seemed to grow pale, as he
looked at the Rensdyr.

"That's what I say, my lad."

The waif actually trembled; but he spoke to the helmsman, who
immediately put the boat about, and headed her towards Stockholm.

"No," said Peaks, sternly. "That vessel."

He pointed to her, and Ole spoke again to the steersman, but without
any better result. The boatswain was not to be thwarted. Going
forward, he took the little wheel into his own hands, and headed the
steamer towards the Rensdyr. Indicating by his signs what he wanted,
the man at