added Christy, as he went on deck.

He found the second and third lieutenants standing on the rail engaged
in examining the surroundings. The day was just beginning to show itself
in the east, though it was not yet light enough to enable them to see
clearly on shore. By the side of the railroad building was a pier, at
which the two schooners lay. They could hear the sounds of some kind of
a stir on shore, but were unable to make out what it meant.

"We are losing time," said Christy, as he took in at a glance all he
deemed it necessary to know in regard to the situation.

"I was about to report to you, Mr. Passford; but Mr. Amblen wished to
ascertain whether or not there is a battery on this side of the point,"
said Flint.

"Do you find anything, Mr. Amblen?"

"No, sir; I can see nothing that looks like a battery," replied the
pilot.

"Then run in, and we will make fast to these schooners and haul them
out," added Christy in hurried tones.

The pilot went to the wheel, and rang one bell on the gong. Dolly
started the engine before Christy could reach the machine. He said
nothing to the oiler, but seated himself on the sofa, and observed his
movements. A few minutes later came the bell to stop her, and then two
bells to back her. Dolly managed the machine properly and promptly, and
seemed to be at home in the engine room. The color of his skin was a
sufficient guaranty of his loyalty, but Christy remained below long
enough to satisfy himself that Dolly knew what he was about, and then
went on deck.

By this time the noise on shore had become more pronounced, and he saw
the dark forms of several persons on the wharf. Flint and Amblen were
making fast to the nearest schooner, and a couple of seamen had been
sent on shore to cast off the fasts which held her to the wharf. This
was the work of but a moment, and the two men returned to the steamer;
but they were closely followed by two men, one of whom stepped on the
deck of the schooner.

"What are you about here?" demanded the foremost of the men, in a rude
and impertinent manner.

"About our business," replied Christy, with cool indifference.

"Who are you, young man?" demanded the one on the deck.

"I am yours truly; who are you?"

"None of your business who I am! I asked you a question, and you will
answer it if you know when you are well off," blustered the man, who was
rather too fat to be dangerous; and by this time, Christy discovered
that he wore so