"We must get over that somehow," replied Mr. Watson, who seemed to be quite as much interested as Levi and his daughter.

"How? With the best breeze we can expect, we can hardly reach Portland before six in the morning."

"While you are getting the yacht ready, I will ride over to Gloucester, and telegraph to a friend of mine in Portland, who will have The Starry Flag entered to-night."

"That will do it splendidly!" exclaimed Bessie, delighted to have the obstacle removed.

"The cook and steward are on board, but the hands are all at home," said Levi. "I will go and find them."

Mr. Watson rang the bell, and ordered the horse and buggy. Bessie went to her room to prepare for the cruise, and Levi hastened over to Mr. Mogmore's house, where he found Mat, whom he sent to look up the other three hands. The young skipper pulled off to the yacht. The water tanks were examined, and found to contain a week's supply at least. The steward was sent on shore, with directions to bring off the men, and a stock of ice and fresh provisions, after he had put the two state-rooms in order.

By the time Augustus had procured his steak, chops, butter, milk, and ice, the four hands had assembled at the landing-place, in readiness to go on board.

"Hurry up, now!" said the steward. "Captain Fairfield is waiting for us."

"There!" exclaimed Mat Mogmore, "I have forgotten one thing. The captain told me to see Mr. Gayles, and tell him the yacht was going to Portland; and I did not think of it till this minute."

"We can't wait for you," replied the steward, impatiently.

"You needn't wait. I will get some one to put me on board. Go ahead!" And Mat ran up the rocks, and hastened towards Mr. Gayles's house.

But he hurried only a moment, till the darkness concealed his form from his shipmates. Instead of going up to the town, he returned to the landing-place as soon as the boat had left. While he stood on the rocks, the clock struck nine. A few moments later, a boat, containing one man, pulled up to the Point.

"Is it all right?" asked the person in the boat.

"All right," answered Mat Mogmore, as he stepped into the boat. "We have no time to lose; Mr. Watson will return soon."

Mat took one of the oars, and they rowed over to the landing-place, in the rear of Mr. Watson's house. Mat went up to the side door and rang the bell. He was admitted to the entry, and told the servant he wished to see Miss Watson. Bessie, who was now all ready, came down stairs with her travelling bag in her hand.

"Captain Fairfield sent me on shore for you," said Mat.

"Where is my father?" asked Bessie.

"He is on board. He was in a hurry to see the captain, and went on board with the steward. The yacht is all ready to sail now, as soon as you go on board."

It was not exactly like Levi to send one of his hands after her; but the yacht was going off in a hurry, and he must be very busy. It was strange that her father did not come home before he went on board; but perhaps he had learned something more about the race, and was in haste to inform Levi of it. She was only afraid that the trip would be abandoned. Her mother came to the entry, told her to "wrap up warm," be careful not to take cold, and then kissed her with an affectionate adieu. Mat Mogmore led the way down to the boat, and assisted her to a seat in the stern-sheets.

The night was clear; but it was quite dark, and the darkness on the water is deeper, and more dense, to a person unaccustomed to the sea, than on the land. Bessie was not afraid; but after the boat had gone a few rods from the shore, she had no idea where she was, for the gloom of night breeds confusion in the mind on the sea.

Bessie did not recognize Mat's companion in the boat; but she supposed he was one of the crew of the yacht. He did not speak, and she had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong. Mat Mogmore was well known to her, and had been long before the yacht was built. He was one of Levi's hands, and his presence, if she had had any suspicions, would have been enough to satisfy her.

"How dark it is!" said Bessie to Mat, who pulled the after oar.

"Not very dark, miss," replied Mat. "The stars are out, and we don't call it very dark when we can see them."

"But I cannot see anything, or tell where I am. I can see the lights in the town, but I can't make out anything else."

"Because you are not used to it. Can't you see the yacht right ahead of us?"

"I can see the outline of a vessel, but I couldn't tell whether it was The Starry Flag or a fishing vessel."

"It's the yacht."

Bessie looked around her, and tried to distinguish the headlands, which looked like masses of darkness resting beneath the star-lit sky.

"Now you can see the yacht," said Mat, as the boat approached a vessel which was not unlike the yacht.

"Yes, I see her plain enough now," answered Bessie, taking it for granted.

"It's a very pleasant night to sail," added Mat, as the boat ran up alongside the vessel.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Bessie, as she looked up to the stars.

The boat was brought up to the gangway; the man at the bow oar stepped out and assisted her on board. Mat Mogmore did not follow her, but pushed off the boat, and pulled away into the darkness. It still wanted more than half an hour of the time appointed for the sailing of the yacht. Mat pulled a short distance from the vessel, and then lay upon his oars. He waited there fifteen minutes, either to kill the time or to arrange his plans, and then ran up alongside the yacht.

He had put Bessie on board of the Caribbee!

He was actually in the employ of Dock Vincent.

Mat stepped on the deck of The Starry Flag, whose foresail and mainsail had been hoisted, and her anchor hove short. The lamps in the cabin and state-rooms were lighted, and the steward was as busy as a bee, and delighted at the thought of once more having the beautiful young lady on board; for it was a joy to serve her, her smile was so sweet, her voice so pleasant, and her heart so full of kindness.

"Where are you, Mat?" demanded Levi, as the treacherous seaman came on board.

"My mother has just had a fit, and they say she will not live till morning," replied Mat, in the most disconsolate of tones. "I shouldn't have come on board at all if Mr. Watson hadn't sent me with a message to you."

"What was the message?" asked Levi, tenderly, for he was full of pity for Mat.

"He told me to tell you that he and Miss Bessie would meet you in Portland on your arrival. Her mother made such a fuss about her going off in the night without her aunt, that her father decided to take the cars, for he heard in Gloucester that an excursion train would come along about twelve o'clock."

"Very well," said Levi. "I will go on shore with you and see about it. I hope your mother will get better."

"I hope so. Mr. Watson started right off in the buggy with Bessie."

"Has he gone?"

"Yes, he went right off. He was in a hurry, for he has to drive to Beverly to catch the train. You won't see him if you go on shore."

"Then I think I will not go; but I will not keep you a moment," added Levi.

"If you want another hand in my place, I can get Tom Sampson."

"We can get along very well without any more help," replied Levi, as Mat pushed off.

Levi was vexed that Mrs. Watson's timidity had deprived him of Bessie's company; but it was like her, and on their trip to the eastward, he had been obliged to be in port every night to please her. However, he would receive his passengers on board at Portland the next morning; and, in a few minutes more, the yacht tripped her anchor, and sailed out of the bay.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE CARIBBEE.

Bessie Watson stood upon the deck of the Caribbee, and in the darkness of the night she did not at first discover that the vessel was not The Starry Flag. She wondered that Levi, with his accustomed devotion, did not spring to receive her when she came on board; that the steward did not present his smiling face; and that her ever-anxious father failed to assure himself that she did not fall overboard in passing from the boat to the vessel. She was an only daughter, and when she appeared it was customary to "turn out the guard" and pay all the honors.

To say that Bessie Watson was a pretty girl, is saying very little. She was a good girl—and this is saying something more, and something better. Nothing but a true heart and excellent common sense saved her from being spoiled by the indulgence of her father and mother. Another devotee was added to those who adored her; but she refused to be spoiled even by Levi's flattery, if such it could be called; for the young skipper was as sincere in his admiration of her as of the yacht he commanded. Bessie did not pout or flout when neither Levi nor her father appeared to receive her.

The man who had been in the boat with Mat Mogmore was Captain Gauley, the stranger. After handing Bessie on board, he led the way, in silence, towards the cabin. There were no lights on deck, and she could see no difference between the two vessels, even when she had descended the steps into the cabin; for no light appeared there. The darkness had been chosen to help the illusion, and Bessie had to feel her way. She came to the table in the middle of the cabin, and knowing that there were lockers forming seats below the berths, she groped her way to the side of the apartment, and seated herself.

"All hands are busy forward in getting under way," said her conductor, from the steps.

"Where is the steward?" asked Bessie.

"He has been so hurried putting away his stores that he has not been in the cabin."

"Are you a new hand?" asked Bessie, who did not recognize the voice of the man.

"I am; I am only going this trip."

"Send the steward, if you please, to light the lamps," added Bessie, who was reasonable enough to understand that the yacht was going to sea on short notice, and she did not demand any unnecessary attention under the circumstances.

"I will send him right down if I can find him."

Captain Gauley went on deck; and Bessie heard a great rattling of ropes, a swaying of booms, and hasty footsteps above her. She could not see a thing; but she waited in the gloom for the steward to come and light the lamps. The noise on deck indicated that all hands were busy, as the man had said; and even yet she suspected nothing.

Mat Mogmore did not go on shore to see his sick mother. He heard the order of Captain Fairfield to man the windlass and stand by the head sails; then he pulled for the Caribbee, to which his boat belonged. Everything had worked to his entire satisfaction. Levi had been as credulous as he desired him to be, and The Starry Flag was standing out of the bay on her way to Portland.

"How is it?" asked Captain Gauley, in a low tone, as Mat came on deck.

"All right; the yacht is under way," replied Mat.

"We must get off at once, then."

"Don't be in a hurry; wait till the Flag has made a couple of miles, so that Levi won't notice the movements of this vessel. Where is the girl?"

"In the cabin. It is pitch dark there, and she has not found out where she is yet," answered Gauley, with a suppressed chuckle, as though the plan was not only a success, but a capital joke.

The foresail and the mainsail of the Caribbee were hoisted, and her crew were busy in getting up the anchor. By the time the preparations were completed, the yacht had disappeared in the darkness and the distance. The jib was hoisted, and the vessel stood out of the bay in a direction nearly opposite to that taken by the yacht.

Bessie began to be impatient. The yacht was under way, and still the steward did not come; still her father, who had nothing to do with working the vessel, did not make his appearance. Had they forgotten that she was on board? If they had, it would be the most remarkable thing that ever occurred. She could not understand it. She knew, as the vessel was now sailing, that Levi must be at the helm, just at the head of the stairs, and she decided to go up and speak to him. She could see the stars through the opening of the companion-way, and she had no difficulty in finding her way out of the cabin.

"Levi?" said she, as she stepped upon deck.

"He is not here," replied Captain Gauley, who was at the helm.

"Where is he?" asked Bessie; and, without knowing that anything was wrong, things began to look a little strange to her, or rather to feel so, for she could not see anything.

"I really don't know where he is, just now," replied the helmsman. "But he cannot be far off."

"The steward has not lighted the cabin yet," added she.

"The captain told the steward not to do so."

"Did he—why?"

"I think you cannot be accustomed to sailing near the land at night," added Captain Gauley.

"I really am not."

"The light would blind the helmsman's eyes so that he could not see the shore. As soon as we are clear of the Selvages we shall light up."

Bessie was satisfied with this explanation. On board of a Sound steamer she had observed that the windows in the forward part of the saloon were covered with thick canvas at night, so that the glare of the light near the boat should not deepen the gloom beyond it, and thus prevent the pilot from seeing the land, or other vessels in the distance. But she was not satisfied with her situation otherwise. The vessel did not feel like the yacht, and Levi and her father did not appear.

While she stood watching the helmsman, and trying to comprehend the inexplicable position of affairs, she saw a light in the cabin. She looked down, and perceived a woman in the act of lighting a lamp.

"Don't light that lamp!" shouted the man at the helm. "It blinds my eyes so that I can't see to steer."

The woman extinguished the match she was applying to the lamp, and darkness reigned in the cabin again. Who was the woman? She asked the helmsman.

"Your father thought you ought to have a female waiter, and he has obtained one," replied Captain Gauley; but she did not notice the chuckle with which he spoke.

Bessie knew that her father would not have provided a woman without consulting her, and she determined to inquire into the situation. She went down the cabin steps again, guided by faith, rather than sight, and felt her way to the locker where she had before been seated.

"Who is it?" asked the woman, from her place at the forward part of the cabin.

"It is I," replied Bessie. "Did my father employ you as stewardess of the yacht?"

"I guess not," replied the woman. "I'm not anybody's stewardess, I can tell you!"

"Who are you then?" asked Bessie, now really alarmed.

"Well, I'm Mrs. Vincent, of course. This is my husband's vessel, and I never expect to be a servant to anybody," answered the woman, rather indignant at being thought a stewardess, even in the dark. "Now, who are you?"

"I am Miss Watson," replied Bessie, her heart sinking within her, so that she could hardly utter the words.

"Miss Watson! Bless me! What, Mr. Watson's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Well, that is strange, sure enough!"

"Is Captain Dock Vincent your husband?" asked Bessie, almost choked with terror.

"Certainly he is."

"And this vessel is not The Starry Flag?"

"Why, no; it's the Caribbee. How on earth came you here?"

"I supposed it was the yacht—my father's yacht," gasped the poor girl, overwhelmed when she realized that she had fallen into a snare set by her former enemy.

"That's too bad; but I didn't know nothing at all about it. Waldock"—she called her husband by his full given name—"Waldock is up to some awful trick."

It was a consolation to know that the woman was not a party to her husband's wicked scheme. Bessie explained how she had been entrapped; but Mrs. Vincent declared that she did not even know the vessel was to sail that night. She had retired with her two children at nine o'clock, and got up when she felt the motion of the vessel under way.

"Where is she going?" asked Bessie, wiping away the tears that dimmed her eyes.

"We are all going to Australia."

"Where is your husband?" demanded Bessie, with a shudder.

"I'm sure I don't know. He went off to New York; but of course we are not going to Australia without him."

While they were talking, Mat Mogmore came into the cabin, and lighted a lamp.

"Mat, what does all this mean?" said Mrs. Vincent, sharply.

"We have carried the thing out just as Captain Vincent told us to do," replied Mat.

"What did he tell you to do?"

"He left us to get Miss Watson on board. We haven't had a chance to do so before, though we have been watching three or four days for one."

"Why did you wish to get me on board?" inquired Bessie, trembling in every fibre of her frame.

"O, you needn't be frightened, Miss Watson. You are not to be hurt, and you are to be treated as well as if you were on board of the yacht. Three years ago your father and Levi sent Captain Vincent to the state prison. He didn't forget it, and he is going to carry out the plan he began upon then."

"Am I to be carried to Australia?" asked Bessie.

"That depends on your father. If he pays the money Captain Vincent asks, we shall send you back. Your father and Levi served the captain a mean trick, and he always said he would get even with them; and I think he will now."

"But how came you in this vessel, Mat?" asked Bessie.

"I went into the yacht for the sole purpose of doing the little job I finished up to-night," answered Mat, with a sneaking smile.

"O, what a wretch!" exclaimed Bessie.

"A wretch? Well, perhaps I am; but it pays better than going before the mast in the yacht. Captain Vincent has your father this time where he can hold him," added Mat. "Levi has gone off to Portland to sail in the race, and he can't do anything for you this time. If you have a mind to write to your father, and tell him to come down with the rocks, I will see that he gets the letter within a week or so. He must put down about a hundred thousand dollars this time."

"Poor girl!" ejaculated Mrs. Vincent. "I pity you; but my husband is an awful man, and I can't do anything about it."

"We haven't anything against her," said Mat. "She is to have a state-room by herself, and live like a lady. That's the captain's orders. The matter rests there, and it isn't any use to say anything more about it."

Mat went on deck, leaving Bessie to weep over her unhappy fate, with no one but Mrs. Vincent to comfort her.



CHAPTER XX.

DOCK VINCENT'S LETTER.

Mr. Watson drove to Gloucester; but at this hour in the evening he had some difficulty in finding the telegraphic operator, and it was fully ten o'clock before he returned to his house in Rockport, ready to go on board of the yacht.

"Why, I thought you had gone!" exclaimed Mrs. Watson, when her husband presented himself.

"No; I was detained in Gloucester. Where is Bessie."

"Bessie has gone on board of the yacht. Mat Mogmore came for her, and said you had gone off in the steward's boat."

"There is some mistake about it," replied Mr. Watson; but he had no idea of the stupendous mistake which had been made.

He went out to the pier; but, having no boat, he hastened over to the Point to obtain a skiff, though he could not see why a boat from The Starry Flag was not waiting for him. All was still on the Point; but he found a dory, in which he pulled off to the place where the yacht usually lay when in port. He could not find her. It was evident that she had sailed; and it was more certain than before that a great mistake had been made. He returned to the Point. Mr. Gayles was there. He had come down to assure himself that the Caribbee had not stolen a march upon him. He could not see her in the gloom of the night. He recognized Mr. Watson, as he landed from the dory.

"Did you see the Caribbee?" asked the constable.

"No; did you see the yacht?" demanded the anxious father.

"I did not."

Mr. Watson stated the circumstances; but the officer could neither assist nor enlighten him.

The Starry Flag was miles away to the north-north-east, and the Caribbee was miles away to the south-south-east.

Levi had gone, Bessie had gone, the Caribbee had gone. Mr. Watson wanted to know why Levi had gone without him; but there was no one to tell him. He did not suspect that Bessie had not gone with him. Mr. Gayles wanted to know why the Caribbee had sailed without Dock Vincent; but there was no one to tell him. Standing on the Point, both were vexed and perplexed; but neither could help himself, and neither could solve the mystery. Both went home.

Mrs. Watson was alarmed when her husband told her that the yacht had gone without him. It was a fact—as Mat Mogmore had stated—that an excursion train left Boston at eleven o'clock for Portland. Many of the people of Rockport had gone to the city to hear a great singer, and were to return in this train. Levi knew of it, or he might have doubted Mat's story. Mr. Watson was a man of action. He ordered his fastest horse to be brought to the door; and he drove, at a furious pace, to Ipswich, which was a little nearer than Beverly, and the train would arrive there half an hour later. At five o'clock in the morning he was in Portland. He chartered a large sail-boat, and stood down the harbor. At seven o'clock he discovered The Starry Flag, off Cape Elizabeth.

Mr. Watson was angry because Levi had left him behind; angry because Levi had taken Bessie and not taken him. Though an unpleasant word had never before passed between them, the father—whose ideas of propriety were very clearly defined—determined that some emphatic words should be used on the present occasion. He paid his boatman, when the yacht had been hailed, and in due time was transferred to her.

"Where is Bessie?" asked Levi, before her father had time to utter a single sharp word.

The emphatic words were never spoken.

"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Watson. "Isn't she on board of the yacht?"

"No, sir," replied Levi, now alarmed, as her father was.

"Not here?"

"Certainly not. Didn't she come by railroad with you?"

"No; I haven't seen her since I started for Gloucester last night."

Levi almost sank upon the deck, and Mr. Watson's strength was all taken from him by the discovery that some mishap had befallen his daughter. Levi explained when he had breath enough to do so. Mr. Watson also explained, and each was in possession of all the information the other had; but their wisdom was foolishness, since it fell far short of the requirements of the moment.

"The Caribbee sailed last night, Levi," said Mr. Watson, who, however, did not regard the fact as of much importance, or as having any especial connection with the absence of Bessie.

"Sailed!" exclaimed Levi. "Then Bessie has sailed in her."

"I can hardly believe it," added Mr. Watson.

"It is another plan to extort money from you."

Levi persisted in his belief. Putting this and that together, he could almost demonstrate that Mat Mogmore was in the employ of Dock Vincent; indeed, Dock had told him that Mat intended to sail for Australia with him. Mr. Watson decided to return immediately to Rockport, and the yacht lay to off the railroad wharf long enough to land him. He took the morning train for Boston, and reached home at two o'clock.

The Starry Flag did not sail in the race that day. As soon as her owner had been landed, she was headed for Cape Ann again, and arrived before night. Levi was bewildered and confounded by the shock of the blow which had fallen upon him and the Watson family. He could do nothing, and in his inactivity he chafed like a caged lion. Mr. Watson had gone to Boston soon after his arrival, taking Mr. Gayles with him. He did not return till the next day. He had chartered a swift steamer, and the constable, with other officers, had gone in pursuit of the Caribbee.

In the morning mail, on the second day after the disappearance of Bessie, came a letter to her father. Levi was present when it was opened, and it contained a full confirmation of his theory that Bessie had been carried off in the Caribbee, and was now going half round the world to Australia. The letter was written by Dock Vincent, and dated ten days before its receipt. The villain assured the distracted parents that Bessie should be kindly cared for by Mrs. Vincent, and should be restored to her friends as soon as possible after her father had paid over to Mr. Fairfield the sum of seventy thousand dollars.

Mr. Watson dropped the letter on the floor, and breathed a deep sigh. He would have given double the sum for the return of Bessie; but his conscience would not permit him to reward villany like that of Dock Vincent.

"Levi, your uncle is concerned in this affair," said Mr. Watson, turning to the young skipper with a sad look.

"I suppose he is. I will go and see him at once."

"I will go with you."

They went.

"Mr. Fairfield, where is Dock Vincent?" asked the suffering father, when he and Levi had been admitted to the kitchen.

"I don't know no more'n nothin' in the world," whined the miser. "I hain't seen nothin' on him."

"You don't know!" repeated Mr. Watson, sternly.

"No more'n nothin' in the world," answered the old man, who realized that the first instalment of trouble on account of Dock's little plan was about to come upon him.

"Yes, you do know where he is. Read that letter;" and the merchant handed him the epistle he had received from Dock.

Mr. Fairfield took the letter, put on his glasses, and studied out its contents.

"I don't know nothin' about it," pleaded the old man, as he looked over his spectacles at the stern parent.

"Don't tell me that! I'm not to be trifled with. I want my daughter, and you are a party to this conspiracy. If you don't speak I'll wring an answer out of you by force," said Mr. Watson, his patience exhausted, and his indignation so aroused that he could not control it.



"I tell you I don't know nothin' at all about it. I hain't seen your darter, nor Cap'n Vincent nuther," whimpered the miser.

"No evasion! Answer me at once," thundered the enraged merchant, goaded to desperation by the anguish his injury called forth. "Your name is mentioned in this letter. You are to receive the money, and share it with the scoundrel who intends to filch it from me. Vincent did not go in the vessel. Where is he?"

"I don't know nothin' at all about it," answered Mr. Fairfield, wriggling like a worm in his chair.

"Yes, you do. You are to send the money to him. Where is he?" demanded Mr. Watson, as he seized the old man by the throat, and dragged him out of his chair.

"Lem me be!" sputtered the miser, trying to free himself from the grasp of the wrathful father.

"Speak, old man! Where is he? Speak, or I will tear the answer from you."

"Be calm, Mr. Watson," interposed Levi, gently.

"For massy's sake! You don't mean to kill him—do you?" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfield, alarmed for the safety of her husband. "Don't hurt him! He's a poor old man, and don't know no better."

Mr. Watson, conscious that he had gone too far in his violent indignation, released his grasp upon the miser, and he sank back into his chair more frightened than hurt.

"If I knew anything consarnin' this business, I'd tell you all about it," added the old man, when he had regained his breath.

"Uncle Nathan, this money is to be paid over to you, and you must know something about it," said Levi, decidedly.

"O, yes; you hate me, and you want to persecute me," replied the old man, bitterly, as he glanced spitefully at his nephew. "There, now, you broke my glasses," continued the miser, as he picked them up from the hearth, on which they had fallen. "I gin a dollar for them glasses; I'm a poor man, and 'tain't right I should lose 'em."

"Will you tell me where Vincent is, or shall I send a constable to arrest you for conspiracy?" demanded Mr. Watson.

"I don't know nothin' at all where he is," replied the miser, alarmed by this threat.

"You were to receive this money."

"That may be. Cap'n Vincent did tell me if you paid any money to me for him to keep it till he come for't. He didn't tell me nothin' at all he was go'n' to do, nor where he was goin' to. I hain't no idee in the world where he is."

This was all that either Mr. Watson or Levi could get out of the old man. It was really all he knew; and the visitors, disappointed and disheartened, retired from the miser's presence, though not till the merchant had declared that he did not intend to pay one penny to Dock to restore his daughter. The old man groaned when they had gone; but it was because he was to lose his reward, and probably the money he had loaned. It was a bitter hour to him.

Mr. Watson and Levi conferred together as they walked home. From that time no one passed in or out of the miser's house without being observed. Levi watched that day; but at nine o'clock in the evening, Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier took his place, to serve for the night.



CHAPTER XXI.

THE CARIBBEE SAILS FOR AUSTRALIA.

If Mrs. Dock Vincent had not been a person of higher moral purposes than her husband, sad indeed would have been the lot of the two children that slept in the captain's state-room on board of the Caribbee. As is often the case, she knew less of her husband's moral obliquity than the world at large, though even she knew enough to believe that he was not what he should be. People did not tell her of Dock's wicked deeds, and he complained bitterly to her of the hard treatment which the world bestowed upon him. That good men frowned at him and spurned him he unjustly attributed to their hypocrisy and self-esteem, rather than to his own evil deeds and evil intentions.

Dock had spent a term in the state prison, and his character was damaged, if not ruined. Men would not trust him, and the reprobate chafed under the public censure. To his wife and his friends he made himself appear like a deeply injured person, like a martyr—in what good cause he could not say. He was going to Australia to begin life anew, to carve out his fortune in a strange land, where he was not known. Mrs. Vincent was willing to leave her native land, and make a new home in a distant country for this purpose, for the motive seemed to be a laudable one.

She had no knowledge, guilty or innocent, of the abduction of Bessie, until after the Caribbee had sailed; but she felt herself powerless to undo the mischief. If her husband had been on board, she would not have dared to oppose him, he was so violent and savage when she interfered with his plans. She could at least protect the poor girl from insult and injury, and she determined to do this at all hazards. It was evident to her that the Caribbee would not proceed immediately to her destination without her owner and captain. It was probably the intention of Captain Gauley to put into some port before she started on her long voyage, when Dock would join her.

Mrs. Vincent pitied Bessie Watson, and almost hated her husband when she realized of what infamy he was capable. She comforted the poor girl as well as she was able, and promised to be her friend under all circumstances. She conducted her to an unoccupied state-room, which had doubtless been reserved for her use, and spent half the night with her; for Bessie trembled at the thought of being alone on board of the vessel of her great enemy.

Bessie was truly grateful to Mrs. Vincent, who, though rough and rude in her manners, was kind at heart; and her presence was a great comfort. The poor girl, torn thus suddenly from her friends, wept long and bitterly at her sad fate; but at last she fell asleep, committing herself to the care of the heavenly Father, and relying upon him for the succor which he alone could give. No one disturbed her; and Mrs. Vincent watched over her, as a child, till she was fast asleep.

When she awoke, late in the morning, she heard the voices of children in the cabin, and it was hard to realize that she was the victim of Dock Vincent's villany. She was kindly greeted by Mrs. Vincent, and the children stared at her as though she had come up from the depths of the ocean. She soon made friends with the boy of eight and the girl of ten, who were included in the family of her persecutor. After breakfast she went on deck with them, and learned that the vessel was off Cape Cod. Captain Gauley was very civil to her; but she did not allude to the events of the previous evening. He was a bad man, and she could hardly help shuddering in his presence.

All day long she played with the children, and short as she made the hours to them, they were very long to her. She was so gentle, and kind, and unselfish, even in her woe, that the little ones loved her, and would hardly leave her for a moment. She was certainly comforted by their presence, and her endeavors to assure them lightened the moments of the long day. The kindness of Mrs. Vincent did much to assure her; she was satisfied that nothing worse than a long separation from her parents was likely to happen to her. Feeling that it was useless to repine at her condition, or to weep over what she could not avoid, she resolved to make the best of it. There was no real hardship in her situation, and the circumstances were certainly more agreeable than when she had before been an involuntary passenger in Dock's vessel. The absence of the villain himself was perhaps her greatest consolation; but the presence of Mrs. Vincent and the children was a real comfort.

In the evening Bessie and Dock's wife talked the matter over again in her state-room. Mrs. Vincent roundly and unequivocally condemned the conduct of her husband. She had discovered that the Caribbee was now headed to the west, and it was plain to her that she was not yet on her way to Australia. Dock had told her he was going to New York, and it was possible that he intended to join them there. She told Bessie that she might be able to leave the vessel when she reached her destined port. The poor girl became more reconciled to her situation only because it was no worse, rather than because it was not bad enough. She slept well that night.

The next day she played with the children, read to them, and dressed the girl's doll in the latest fashion. In the evening, after Bessie had retired, the Caribbee ran by Sandy Hook, and made a harbor near Amboy, where she came to anchor. She was moored a mile from the shore, and no other vessel was near her. Captain Gauley had carried out the plans of Dock to the letter. He had been a steamboat pilot in these waters, and was quite familiar with the navigation. Dock had made his acquaintance while he was acting as mate of a boat, and the mate and the pilot were congenial spirits.

When Bessie went on deck with the children in the morning, Captain Gauley told her, if she wished to write to her father, her letter should be forwarded, as he was going on shore during the forenoon. She was glad to assure her parents of her safety, and she wrote a long letter, describing her capture and her situation on board of the Caribbee. She stated the facts as they were. Dock's agent was writing at the same time in the cabin; and when she was about to fold her sheet, he wished to see it. He read it through, tore off the heading, "Near New York," and the date, and then suggested that she had better ask her father to pay the money required for her release.

"My father must do as he thinks best about that," replied Bessie, decidedly.

"You don't understand your situation, I see," added the captain. "It is impossible for you to escape from the vessel, and if your father does not pay the money, you will go to Australia with us."

"My father will do what is best," repeated Bessie.

"Very well," added Captain Gauley, sourly. "If your father is not wiser than you are, you may spend the rest of your days in Australia."

Bessie made no reply, but folded and directed her letter. It was plain now that Dock was to levy his contribution on Mr. Watson before he came on board. This out-of-the-way place had been selected, where no one would be likely to hear of her, for the vessel to remain until Dock could obtain his money. Captain Gauley went off in a boat, with one man, leaving the schooner in charge of Mat Mogmore. He did not return till night; but Bessie, though she considered various plans to escape from the vessel, was satisfied that nothing could be done, for Mat watched her all the time. Her only hope was, that she might induce one of the sailors to assist her by promising him a large sum of money; but her vigilant guardian would not permit her to speak to any man on board. If one of the seamen came aft, he was ordered forward; and Bessie's hope faded away.

The Caribbee remained for ten days in the vicinity of Sandy Hook, changing her anchorage several times. Every day, either Mat Mogmore or Captain Gauley went on shore, evidently expecting to see Dock, or to hear from him. Bessie watched in vain for an opportunity to make a friend of one of the sailors, or to hail a passing boat; but so carefully was she guarded, that all hope in this direction was cut off. She began to wish that her father would pay the money, for this seemed to be her only chance of escape. Dock's non-appearance indicated that his little plan was not working as well as he had expected, and Mrs. Vincent and Bessie saw that Captain Gauley and Mat were becoming very anxious.

On the tenth day after the arrival of the Caribbee, Mat Mogmore, who had been on shore, returned with a letter, directed, in a strange hand, to Captain Gauley. He opened it in the cabin. It contained but a few lines, which he read and then hastened upon deck, leaving the letter on the table. The rattling of ropes and the flapping of sails were immediately heard; and it was plain to Bessie that the vessel was getting under way.

"I wonder what is to be done now," said Mrs. Vincent, coming out of her state-room.

"I don't know. Captain Gauley read the letter which lies on the table, and then hurried on deck," replied Bessie.

"A letter!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, who was continually on the lookout for news; for she was hardly less a prisoner than Bessie.

She took it from the table, and without hesitation opened it.

"It is from my husband," said she, glancing at the signature. "Things are going wrong with me, and you will sail for Australia without me," she read, "the moment you get this letter. Keep things as before, and do not let any one leave the vessel. If you don't do this, my only chance is lost. Be careful, for they are after you. I shall get the money, and go to Australia by steamer from England, and shall probably be there before you."

"Then we are actually starting for Australia!" exclaimed Bessie, with a deep sigh.

"I suppose so."

Bessie went into her state-room and wept bitterly, as all hope deserted her. She cried, and she prayed, and then endeavored to reconcile herself anew to her situation. The sails were hoisted, and the Caribbee was standing out to sea.

Captain Gauley was at the helm, and Mat Mogmore was at his side, talking with him about the prospect.

"If he wrote a letter at all, he ought to have told us all about it," said Mat, disappointed at the meagreness of the news from Dock.

"He says things are going against him."

"And he says they are after us; but he don't say who, nor what," added Mat. "I would like to know what has gone wrong, and who is after us."

"Do you see that schooner on the weather bow?" said Captain Gauley, pointing to a trim-looking craft. "She has an eye on us, and we must give her a wide berth. She came about just now, and is running across our fore-foot."

"That's the yacht, as true as I live!" exclaimed Mat, when he discovered her.

"What yacht?"

"The Starry Flag!"

She had been standing off and on between Sandy Hook and Coney Island for twenty-four hours, on the lookout for the Caribbee.



CHAPTER XXII.

THE TRAVELLER WHO LOST HIS WAY.

The steward of the yacht watched the house of Mr. Fairfield all night; but no one entered or left it. Levi took his turn the next day again; and, when he proposed to employ a fresh hand for the second night, Augustus insisted upon serving, himself. He had slept enough during the day, and he wanted the satisfaction of capturing Dock, if he presented himself.

This time he was in luck, as he declared, for about one o'clock at night, when the town was as still as though it contained not a single living inhabitant, the villain came to obtain his money, probably not doubting that by this time it had been paid to his agent.

The steward had stationed himself in such a position that no one could approach the house unseen by him. Just after the clock on one of the churches had struck one, he heard footsteps on the road, and presently a man stopped in front of the miser's house. Contrary to the usual custom of rogues and villains, he went up to the front door, and knocked vigorously. The heart of the watcher leaped with expectation, and he crept like a cat on the grass till he had obtained a position behind a lilac bush, near the front door. The first summons of the unseasonable visitor did not procure a response from within, and the man knocked again.

Though the vigilant sentinel did not recognize his cowardly enemy, he had no doubt it was he. The form was about the height of Dock, but appeared to be better dressed than when he had seen the ruffian. Who else should go to the house of the miser at that unseemly hour?

"Who's there?" called Mr. Fairfield, with his impatient whine, as he threw open one of the windows of his chamber.

"I've got lost, and I want some one to show me the way to Gloucester," replied the visitor, in a tone so different from the voice of Dock that Augustus did not recognize it, and began to fear that the villain was not within his reach, as he had confidently believed.

"Got lost—have you? Well, take the right hand road out by the school-'us," added the miser, not so sourly as most people would have spoken when roused from their sleep to direct a night traveller.

"There are two or three roads there, and I can't afford to go much out of my way. Come out and show me, and I'll pay you for your trouble."

This was quite enough for the miser, and he promised to come. The caller stepped out into the road, and Augustus crouched down under the lilac bushes to escape observation. In a few moments Mr. Fairfield appeared, muffled up in a ragged overcoat.

"Well, Squire Fairfield, what's the news?" demanded the visitor, when the old man joined him.

If the steward had any doubts before, he had none now. It was Dock Vincent beyond a peradventure, and his voice sounded as natural as on former occasions. It was plain that the bewildered traveller was a myth for the benefit of Mrs. Fairfield, who, being "women folks," and not understanding business, was not permitted to share the heavy secrets of her husband, especially on the present momentous occasion.

"There ain't nothin' at all for news," replied the old man, as he glanced at the house, as if to assure himself that his wife was not watching him.

"No news?" exclaimed Dock. "Hasn't Watson come done with the money yet?"

"No; nor that ain't the wust on't, nuther. I don't believe he will."

"O, yes, he will!" replied Dock, confidently. "I've got things fixed this time so that he can't help planking down the money. He'll be glad to pay it, I can tell you."

"What have you done with the gal, cap'n?"

"We've got her; and Watson never'll see her again unless he pays the money—that's so."

"But he won't pay it; and I ain't go'n' to git my share on't at all," whined the miser.

"Yes, you will; don't be alarmed, Squire Fairfield."

"They've sent a steamer off arter the vessel."

"Have they, though?"

"Yes, they have; and Gayles has gone in her."

"All right; the steamer'll cost some money, and won't do any good. She'll come back without the girl. My vessel isn't a great ways from New York, and when I say the word she'll start, whether I go in her or not. I tell you, Mr. Watson will be glad to pay the money before many days. He don't understand the matter yet. I'll come again in two or three days; and I reckon you'll have the money next time I come."

"Where are you stoppin' now?" asked Mr. Fairfield.

"Nowhere in these parts; but I'll be here in two or three days."

"But Watson won't pay that money, no more'n nothin' in the world."

"Yes, he will. He can't help doing it, if he wants his daughter again. Where's Levi now?"

"He's round here; but what am I go'n' to do for what you owe me, if Watson don't pay the money?" asked the old man, anxiously.

"I'll pay it all just as I agreed to do. Now go to bed again, Squire Fairfield, or your wife will be out looking for you."

"But I want to know sunthin more about this business."

"You mustn't know any more than you do. I didn't mean you should know anything about it. I never told you anything. When you get the money, you hold on to it till I come. I don't know as it's quite safe for me to come here again, even in the night. I guess we'll fix it some other way."

Dock did "fix it some other way"—it is of no consequence how.

"After I get this money, and get all ready to start, I'm going to settle up matters with Levi and that nigger before I go. I expect I shall kill that nigger if I ever see him again."

"Shall you? Then now's your time!" yelled Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier, as he sprang from his covert, and rushed upon his enemy.

Dock Vincent was startled, as a braver man than he might have been under such circumstances; but the steward did not permit him to recover his self-possession. With an oak stick he carried in his hand, he dealt a heavy blow upon the head of the villain. But his cranium seemed to be made of more solid material than his African assailant's, for he attempted to rise, when the steward repeated the stroke so effectually that he lay still on the ground.

"Don't! Don't!" pleaded Mr. Fairfield, terrified by the tragic event. "Don't tech him agin. Let him be."

But Dock was not deprived of his consciousness even by the severe blows he had received, and again he attempted to rise.

"Lay still! If you don't there'll be a dead man not far from here," said the steward, as he took his revolver from his pocket.

Dock saw it, and dared not move.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go now."

"Not if I know it! Allow me to insinuate, in the most direct manner possible, that this man is my prisoner; and if he don't spend the rest of his days in the state prison, it will be an outrage upon humanity," added the steward.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go. I'll give you twenty-five cents if you will," whined the miser, who had to open his heart very wide to make this liberal offer.

"He is going to jail, if there is such an institution in these parts," replied Augustus.

"I'll give you fifty cents if you'll let him go," pleaded Mr. Fairfield.

"If you would give me fifty thousand dollars, I wouldn't let him go," replied the steward. "Do you think I would sell my own soul for money?"

Augustus, with the revolver in his right hand, felt in all the pockets of his prostrate enemy for dangerous weapons, but he found none.

"Now get up," said he.

Dock obeyed, in momentary fear that one of the pistol balls would be spinning through his head.

"Do you know where Mr. Watson's house is?" continued he.

"I do," replied Dock.

"Then march; and if you turn to the right or the left, or attempt any irregular proceeding, I promise you, on the honor of Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier, that I will give you the benefit of every bullet this pistol contains, six in number, by actual count. Forward!"

Dock marched in the direction indicated; he could not help doing so, bitter as the necessity was. Mr. Fairfield followed, begging and pleading with all his eloquence, and even offering as high as a dollar for the release of his friend.

"Old man, return to your humble abode, and give up your weary frame to the arms of Morpheus," said Augustus, when his patience was exhausted. "In other words, venerable sir, go home, and go to bed."

The miser was terribly stricken by the sudden misfortune of Dock; not from sympathy, but because it foreboded the loss of the money the prisoner owed him. It is possible that he had some fear of being compromised before the courts. If he had, it was overborne by the greater dread of losing his money. He could not willingly return; and it was only when the steward threatened him with the terrible pistol that he did so.

Augustus walked about six feet behind his victim till he came to Mr. Watson's house, and then directed him to go up to the side door.

"Ring the bell!" said the steward, in the stern tones of command.

"See here, steward, can't we arrange this thing," replied Dock, turning to his remorseless captor.

"Ring the bell! We'll arrange it in the court."

Dock rang the bell. Little did the father and mother of Bessie sleep while she was away from them, and they heard the bell the first time it was rung.

"Who's there?" called Mr. Watson from a second-story window.

"Augustus, sir," replied the steward, in the mildest of tones. "There's a gentleman here to see you, sir."

"I will be down in a moment;" and presently a light appeared in the dining-room.

"Walk in," said Mr. Watson, opening the door.

"Walk in!" repeated Augustus, in stern tones.

Dock followed the merchant into the dining-room, closely attended by his guard.

"Vincent!" exclaimed Mr. Watson, when he turned to see who his midnight visitor was.

"Yes, sir," replied the steward. "You will pardon me for bringing him here, sir; but I did not know what else to do with him."

"Vincent, where is my daughter?" demanded the merchant, earnestly.

"She is on her way to Australia," replied Dock, who was now beginning to recover his self-possession, and to measure the consequences of his misfortune.

"I beg to suggest, Mr. Watson, that his reply is a wretched falsehood," interposed the steward. "I heard him tell Mr. Fairfield that his vessel wasn't a great ways from New York."

"In the latitude of New York, I meant merely. Mr. Watson, this man is making a mess of it for you. I made my demand of you by letter. Give me the money, and your daughter shall be restored. If you don't, you will never see her again, whatever may happen to me," said Dock.

"Not a dollar! Not a penny!" replied Mr. Watson, with emphasis.

"Very well, Mr. Watson. You will discover your mistake soon enough," added Dock.

"We want an officer and a pair of handcuffs," said Mr. Watson. "Can you keep him while I procure assistance?"

"I can," answered Augustus, confidently, as he displayed his pistol.

Mr. Watson called his two men, and sent one of them for Constable Cooke, who was the only officer available at that hour of the night. He came, and the villain was ironed. The constable and the steward kept guard over him till morning.



CHAPTER XXIII.

OFF SANDY HOOK.

Levi did not learn that the great enemy had been captured till he went up in the morning to relieve the steward; but the news was spreading rapidly, and it came to his ear before he reached his station. He hastened to the house of Mr. Watson, where Constable Cooke and the steward still kept vigil over the fallen foe. The officer evidently did not relish his employment; but Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier had proved that he was a first-class tiger, as well as an exquisite of the first water.

Mr. Watson had another interview with the wretch as soon as Levi arrived; but Dock Vincent was as obstinate as a mule. He took no pains to conceal the fact that he enjoyed the distress of the suffering father and the intense anxiety of Levi. The prisoner was to be examined before Squire Saunders during the forenoon, and it was hoped that some development of the plan of the conspirator would be obtained.

By the morning train came Mr. Gayles. The steamer sent in pursuit of the Caribbee had returned to Boston in the night. Of course she had not seen or heard of the vessel, which had gone through Vineyard Sound, while the steamer followed the track of ships bound round the Cape of Good Hope.

"Has he been searched?" asked Mr. Gayles, when he had reported the result of his mission to his employer.

"No; I proposed it to Mr. Cooke, but he declined to do it until a warrant had been obtained," replied Mr. Watson.

"It should be done at once;" and Mr. Gayles hastened to attend to this important duty.

Dock blustered, and attempted to resist the indignity, as he termed it; but the constable was determined, and heeded not the prisoner's protest or his struggles. On his person was found a variety of papers, and among them the letter which Captain Gauley had written in the cabin of the Caribbee. But this document had no signature, and was hardly more satisfactory than the letter which Mr. Watson had received from Bessie; at least it contained no accurate information. One sentence, however, was sufficiently definite to make a beginning upon. "We are somewhere inside of Sandy Hook, ready to go to sea at a moment's notice," Captain Gauley wrote. "You know where to leave a letter in New York, when you are ready to go on board; and one of us goes up to the city every day now."

"It's no use," said Dock, maliciously. "You can't find the Caribbee. Mr. Watson, I may rot in jail; but you will never see your daughter again if you go on with this matter. If you want to get her back, pay me the money I ask, let me go, and you shall have her in a week."

"I will not pay you a dollar," replied Mr. Watson, firmly.

"All right," added Dock, with a sneer. "You will wish you had in the course of a year or two. I know what I'm about this time."

Mr. Watson, Mr. Gayles, and Levi went to another room to consider the situation, leaving Constable Cooke in charge of the prisoner.

"Cooke, do you want to make a hundred dollars easy?" said Dock, in a whisper.

"I don't know," replied the officer. "I can't compromise myself."

"You run no risk," added Dock, as he wrote with a pencil, on half a sheet of note paper, the letter which Captain Gauley received just before the Caribbee sailed. "Put this in an envelope, direct it to Captain John Gauley, care of E. G. Baines & Co., No. —— Maiden Lane, New York, and put it into the post office. That's all; and here is a hundred dollars."

Constable Cooke took the note and the money. Dock wrote the direction for the letter on a piece of paper. He thrust the whole into his pocket. He had his doubts, as well he might, about the propriety of mailing the letter.

Levi, from the information obtained, was satisfied that the Caribbee was at anchor in one of the secluded inlets below New York, waiting for Dock to join her. It was not likely that she would go to sea without her owner, whose family were on board of her.

"Dock says she will go to Australia, whether he joins her or not," said Mr. Gayles.

"She will not sail till those on board have heard from Dock. We must take care that he does not send any letter or message," added Levi.

"Perhaps it would be better to let him do so, if we could only stop the letter at the post office."

"But we don't know who has charge of the vessel. It is plain that he has a captain on board of her; but he does not sign his name to the letter we found upon Dock," interposed Mr. Watson.

"Don't let him send any letters," persisted Levi. "Then the Caribbee will stay where she is till we find her."

"That is the better way," replied Mr. Watson.

"Perhaps it is," said Mr. Gayles. "But it would do no harm to ask the postmaster to stop any letter to Mat Mogmore, for instance."

"Mat Mogmore did not take that vessel round to New York," added Levi. "There is a bigger man than he on board of her, and we don't know his name. We can't do anything in this way, unless we stop all the letters directed to the vicinity of New York."

"Doesn't this man's name appear in any of Dock's papers?"

"No; I have looked in vain for it."

"Mr. Watson," said Levi, suddenly springing to his feet, "I am sure I can find Bessie."

Both Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles looked at him with interest. He had done a similar work once before, and his confident expression was entitled to respect.

"I am as sure as I want to be that the Caribbee is anchored somewhere in New York Bay. Dock's letter says so. He sent her there, intending to join her as soon as he had collected his black mail. The facts and the theory agree with each other."

"Admit what you say," added Mr. Watson, "and there is no doubt of it. What shall we do?"

"I will go to New York in The Starry Flag. I can tell the Caribbee as far as I can see her, by night or by day. I will stand off and on by Sandy Hook, so that she cannot pass me. You and Mr. Gayles shall go to New York to-night, charter a small steamer, and explore all the inlets and bays below the city till you find her."

"She may escape before you get there," suggested Mr. Gayles.

"No; she will wait till she hears from Dock."

"It may get into the newspapers."

"We will see that it does not."

Various objections to Levi's plan were considered; but it was adopted without material alteration. Mr. Watson thought it would be better to charter a steamer in New York for Levi's use; but he preferred the yacht. She would be under his control, and at the critical moment would not be out of coal, or her machinery out of order.

Levi determined to sail as soon as the examination of Dock Vincent was finished. He engaged three extra hands, and put provisions and water enough on board to meet any emergency, in case the cruise should be unexpectedly prolonged. He was confident that his plan could not fail; and if Constable Cooke had not been unfit for a place of trust, probably it would not have failed, either in whole or in part.

Mr. Fairfield was arrested, and at ten o'clock both he and Dock were arraigned for examination. The old man was dreadfully alarmed. With the arrest of Dock his fondest hopes had gone out in darkness. Not only was the rich reward he had been promised forever lost, but his neighbor's note for ten thousand dollars was not worth the paper on which it was written. Though the conspirator did not yet believe that his plan had failed, the old man did.

Dock was held on a complaint of kidnapping Bessie Watson, and an attempt to extort money from her father. The evidence, including Dock's letter and the absence of Bessie, was more than enough to hold him, and he was committed for trial. The testimony was strong enough to hold Mr. Fairfield, and he also was committed; but Mr. Watson, out of consideration for the poor old man, procured bail for him. It was in vain he protested that he had nothing to do with the affair, and knew nothing about it. His midnight meeting with Dock Vincent condemned him.

The deputy sheriff bore Dock to the jail; for Mr. Gayles suggested that Constable Cooke's fingers were slippery, though he did not know that they had already been soiled by a bribe. Levi hastened on board of the yacht as soon as the case had been disposed of, where his crew had made every preparation for the intended cruise—how long it was to be they knew not then. The wind was blowing a smashing breeze when she sailed, and in forty hours she was off Sandy Hook. Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles arrived a day earlier, but did not deem it prudent to commence the search till the next day, fearful that the Caribbee might slip away before the yacht arrived; but they were not idle. They visited all the small ports in the vicinity; but Captain Gauley kept the vessel away from any harbor.

Constable Cooke could not settle his mind in regard to the letter in his pocket, and he kept it there till the day after the examination. Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles had both neglected, and even snubbed him. They did not ask his advice; they did not employ him to assist in the search. They had gone off without him, and he saw no chance to make any money with the information in his possession. If Mr. Watson wanted Mr. Gayles to do his business for him, he might employ him. Mr. Cooke enclosed the pencilled note, directed it, and then mailed it in Gloucester.

Mr. Watson commenced his search in the steamer he had engaged for the purpose. He went a dozen miles up North River, examining every vessel in the stream, passed down the bay, through The Kills, up Newark Bay, through Staten Island Sound to Amboy, scoured Raritan Bay and River, without success, and thus used up the first day of the search. The next day—that on which Mat Mogmore went to the city and brought off the letter—she followed East River to Throg's Point; ran into Harlem River, Flushing Bay, and all the inlets, examining the Long Island shore as far as Rockaway, but with no better results than on the preceding day. Off Coney Island she spoke The Starry Flag. The captain of the steamer was confident that the Caribbee was not in the vicinity; it was more probable that she had come through the Sound, and put into Cow Bay, or some other waters beyond Throg's Point; and the steamer returned to the city, to renew the search on the third day.

Captain Gauley changed his anchorage every day or two. On the first day he had been behind Coney Island, but had moved over to a point south of Staten Island that evening, and thus, by accident, escaped discovery.

Mat brought the letter to him, and the Caribbee went to sea instantly; but it was only to encounter The Starry Flag, lying in wait for her. The quick eye of Levi immediately recognized her, and his orders to come about were given in sharp, quick tones. He was excited; Bessie was almost within hail of him; indeed, he saw her standing on deck, with Mrs. Vincent and the children. The wind was fresh, and the Caribbee had spread every inch of her canvas. Levi arranged his plan to cut her off while she was still nearly half a mile distant from him.



CHAPTER XXIV.

HALF ROUND THE WORLD.

The wind was fresh, and The Starry Flag was under easy sail when the Caribbee was discovered. Though Levi immediately ordered the foresail to be hoisted, he saw, with intense chagrin, that the advantage was against him. He had hauled down the fly, and he hoped, as Dock Vincent was not on board of the Caribbee, that her people would not recognize the yacht. The wind was east, and the vessel was beating out, while The Starry Flag had the wind on the beam.

Levi, trusting that his craft would not be identified, intended to crowd the Caribbee so as to oblige her to tack, and then, while she was in stays, to lay alongside, and board her. Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier stood, with his revolver in his hand, ready to follow his "excellent captain," who was similarly armed, to the deck of the chase. Three other men were also detailed to join the party, though Levi did not expect much, if any, resistance.

The young skipper kept out of sight himself, that he might not be recognized before the decisive moment came. His heart bounded with excitement. He saw Bessie standing on the deck with Dock's wife, and a few moments more would restore her to him, and he should have the proud satisfaction of sailing up New York Bay, and giving her back to her father. The steward was ready to do greater wonders than ever before. Thus far he had done all the hard fighting, and he was prepared to do it unto the end.

The decisive moment did not come then. The quick eye of Mat Mogmore had recognized the yacht, and the Caribbee suddenly tacked, and stood away to the south-east. But Levi did not give up the chase. He had the weather-gage, and his foresail was now drawing well. In spite of Dock's brags about the speed of his vessel, the young skipper believed the yacht would outsail her; but this was only a blind confidence.

The Caribbee was headed directly towards a shoal place called the "Oil Spot," and as it was dead low tide, Levi thought she could not pass over it. Farther to the southward was a ledge, with only nine feet of water on it. But Captain Gauley knew all about the dangers of the navigation on this part of the coast. He went just to the southward of the Oil Spot; and, instead of gaining anything, Levi was obliged to keep away, and lose the weather-gage, in order to avoid the shoal himself.

He was disappointed and felt cheap after his failure. The Caribbee, close-hauled, was standing off to the south-east, while The Starry Flag was a quarter of a mile astern of her. Neither had the advantage, and it was still an open question which could make the best time. Levi soon found that the Caribbee was running away from him; but she carried a main gaff-topsail and a staysail. Fortunately he had similar sails on board, though he seldom used them. They were set when the two vessels were about a mile apart.

The wind held fresh and steady, and Levi was happy when he realized that the Caribbee was no longer gaining upon him. Hour after hour he followed her, without any perceptible change in the distance between them. It was plain now that the two vessels were about equally matched, and day and night Levi held his course. On the third day out he spoke a ship bound to New York. He knew what agony Mr. Watson was suffering, and he wrote two letters to him, one directed to New York, and the other to Rockport; "I shall follow the Caribbee round the world if necessary, and I will not return without Bessie," he wrote. These letters he sent on board of the ship, and in due time both were received by Mr. Watson.

For weeks and weeks The Starry Flag followed the Caribbee; but the voyage would be as tedious to the reader as it was to Bessie Watson. From the summer time, the yacht went into the heat of the torrid zone, and from that to the spring time of the south temperate. A week out from New York she encountered a heavy gale, and lost sight of the chase; but Levi, true to his promise, did not give up the pursuit, though he did not see the Caribbee again for weeks. As the yacht was getting short of water and provisions, he put in at the Island of St. Helena for fresh supplies, and learned that the Caribbee had left the port only the day before.

Again he made a harbor at Cape Town; but the chase had not been there. With fresh provisions, he sailed again, not expecting to see the Caribbee till he found her at Melbourne, the port for which she had cleared; but as he went out of the harbor, he discovered her coming in. The Caribbee went about, and stood on her course again to the eastward. Levi was in high spirits now. He had outsailed his rival from St. Helena. He had profited by an attentive study of the current chart, and gained a day. Proud of this triumph over the skilful seaman who was in charge of the chase, he persevered in the pursuit.

Bessie saw The Starry Flag from the deck of the Caribbee, and understood why Captain Gauley put about. She was amazed at the persistent devotion of Levi in following her so far, and hope brightened and inspired her. Captain Gauley and Mat laughed at what they called the folly of Levi, and assured Bessie he would never find her.

Week after week both vessels held on their course, through sunshine and tempest. Off the southern coast of Australia a fearful storm burst upon them, and for the third time since leaving the Cape of Good Hope, they parted company; but both of them weathered the tempest. One hundred and seven days from New York, in the spring time of the southern hemisphere, The Starry Flag was approaching Bass Straits. The navigation was difficult and dangerous. Levi had read up his nautical library, and carefully studied the charts he had obtained at Cape Town. The wind was blowing a fresh gale from the southward and westward, and the young commander was full of doubt and anxiety. The night was coming on, with the promise of thick and heavy weather. Another day would enable him to reach Melbourne; but it was hazardous to attempt to thread his way among the rocks and coral reefs in the night and the storm. Prudently, therefore, he put about, and stood away to the southward, close-hauled, with the heavy seas washing his decks, for his bulwarks had been stove in the tempest a week before.

"Sail, ho!" shouted the man on the lookout forward.

"Where away?" asked Levi.

"On the weather bow."

"It's the Caribbee!" exclaimed Levi to Bob Thomas, who had been made first mate of the yacht.

"Ay, ay! It is," replied the mate.

"She went to the southward of Hammetts, while we went to the northward, after the great storm. The southerly current has carried her off her course, I should judge," added Levi.

The captain and the mate watched her with the most intense interest. The Caribbee stood on her course, and it was evident that she intended to enter the Straits, regardless of the perils before her. Levi could not do less than follow, reckless as it seemed to him. He did follow; but he took extraordinary precautions. He bent on his heavy anchor, and made other preparations for trying events. But the Caribbee, instead of entering the Straits in the darkness, stood away to the northward. All night long the gale piped its angry notes, and The Starry Flag again lost sight of the chase in the gloom.

The weather moderated in the morning, though the gale only partially subsided. Again the Caribbee was discovered, hull down, in the south. She was then entering the Straits, to the southward of King's Island, where no prudent navigator would venture in bad weather. The yacht was headed in that direction, and anxiously did Levi watch the chase. He had no intention of following her through the intricacies of that rock-bounded channel. Two hours later, the cry ran through the yacht that the Caribbee had struck on a hidden reef!

The heart of the young skipper was in his mouth. Bessie was in great peril, and he was almost distracted as he thought of her, perishing in the angry waves, surrounded only by enemies. The yacht dashed madly on towards the scene of the disaster. Trembling with anxiety, Levi went below to consult his chart, which lay all the time on the cabin table. He found the locality, and the ledge on which the Caribbee had struck. There was no other peril very near it, and he stood on confidently till The Starry Flag was within hail of the wreck, or would have been in less tempestuous weather.

The foremast of the Caribbee had gone by the board, and the waves were making a clean sweep over her decks. The life-boat, which swung at the port davits of the yacht, had been cleared away, in readiness to be lowered. Finding he had good holding-ground under him, Levi ordered the men to let go the heavy anchor. Fortunately it brought her up; but the other anchor was also thrown over. The sails were lowered, and the yacht rode tolerably easy. The gale was abating, and Levi was satisfied that the two anchors would hold her.

The life-boat was manned with four men, and Levi took his place in the stern-sheets. It was no easy matter to board the wreck while the sea was making a clean breach over her. She had struck her bow upon the sharp rock, and stove in her bottom. She had filled, and her stern had settled down, and the water was over her taffrail, while her stem projected up into the air. Her hull had swung round a little, so that there was a choice of sides in approaching her. The foremast had been jammed up by the breaking of the keelson where it was set, and hung over the side. To this the life-boat was made fast, and Levi, followed by Bob Thomas, climbed on board.

Crouching under the lee of the camboose, the young skipper found Bessie, Mrs. Vincent, and the two children, while the crew were clinging to the rigging of the bowsprit to prevent being washed overboard.

"O, Levi!" cried Bessie, when she saw the manly form of her true friend.

In the blast and the spray, Levi clasped her hands, and both of them wept. It was more than three months since they had parted in the house of Mr. Watson. There was no time to think of the past, or even of the future; the present absorbed all the energies of the young seaman. With the assistance of Bob Thomas, Levi conveyed Bessie along the fallen spar, and lowered her into the life-boat. Mrs. Vincent and her two children were assisted into the boat in the same manner. Mat Mogmore and two men—all that were left of the crew—were then permitted to enter the boat, which pulled back to the yacht.

With much difficulty, and the exercise of no little skill, the life-boat was kept right side up, and the rescued party were safely placed on board of The Starry Flag, though the females had to be hoisted up in slings over the stern.

"You are safe, Bessie," said Levi, as he conducted her to the cabin.

"Thanks to our Good Father, and to you, Levi, I am!"

"I have the inexpressible happiness of greeting you again," said Mr. C. Augustus Ebenier, as he threw open the door of her state-room.

The gale rapidly subsided, and in the afternoon, after the wreck had been boarded again, the yacht sailed for Melbourne.



CHAPTER XXV.

A HAPPY REUNION.

The sea in the Strait was comparatively smooth, and the yacht sped on her way to Melbourne. Mrs. Vincent and her children had been installed in Mr. Watson's state-room, while Bessie occupied her own. From her Levi had obtained all the particulars of her voyage. She told him what she had suffered, what she had feared, and what she had hoped.

"Who had charge of the Caribbee?" asked Levi, when, after Bessie and Mrs. Vincent had been made comfortable, they gathered in the cabin.

"Captain Gauley," replied Bessie.

"Who was he?"

"He was a pilot on a steamer," replied Mrs. Vincent. "He and my husband became acquainted while they were on a boat near New York. I never saw him till just before we sailed from the Cape. He is a bad man."

"That is plain enough," added Levi; "but where is he now?"

"He and three other men were washed overboard when the vessel struck on the rocks."

"And three of the men were saved?"

"Yes; Mat Mogmore, the steward, and another man."

"Why did you sail without your husband, Mrs. Vincent?" asked Levi.

"I don't know anything about this business. I hadn't anything to do with it," replied the poor woman; and Levi and Bessie pitied her because she was the wife of such a bad man.

"I am sure she had nothing to do with carrying me off, Levi," interposed Bessie. "She has been very kind to me from the moment I went on board of the Caribbee, and would have assisted me to escape, if there had been any chance."

"I am very glad indeed to know that," added Levi. "I don't see why this Captain Gauley sailed without your husband."

"Captain Vincent sent a letter to him, saying that things were going wrong with him, and ordered him to sail at once."

Levi wondered how Dock had sent the letter. When told that it was written in pencil, and that the address on the envelope was not in her husband's hand, he was satisfied that Constable Cooke had rendered him this important service.

"My husband was to come to Australia by the steamer from England," added Mrs. Vincent. "Perhaps he is here now."

"I think not," replied Levi.

"Why so?"

"Because he was arrested, and committed to jail before I left the Cape. Augustus caught him."

"I had that honor," said the steward, who was standing near the party; and the incident was fully described.

"I suppose my poor father and mother do not know what has become of me," continued Bessie, the tears starting to her eyes.

"Yes, they do. I sent two letters by a ship we spoke. If this vessel reached New York, I am sure he knows where you are. I wrote him that I should follow you round the world, if need be."

"How brave and noble you are, Levi!" she said, bestowing a glance of admiration upon him. "And this Starry Flag has rendered me a greater service than the other Starry Flag."

"She has indeed! She is the finest little craft that ever floated; and I shall love her as long as I live. In that great gale a week ago, she was under water half the time, I believe. We had to batten down everything, and lash ourselves to the deck."

"That was a fearful storm. I hope I shall never see another such. How grateful we ought to be for our preservation!"

"I trust we are grateful to God for his goodness and his mercy," replied Levi, devoutly.

On the following day the yacht took a pilot, and came to anchor in the harbor of Melbourne. Mat Mogmore had kept out of sight since he came on board, spending all his time in the forecastle; but when the anchor was dropped he appeared on deck.

"I think I will go on shore now, Levi," said he, with an assumed coolness.

"I think not," replied Levi, decidedly.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded the young villain.

"I mean that you shall not leave this vessel, unless you leave it in irons. I shall state the case to the American consul; and I think you will return to the United States as a prisoner."

"Why, what have I done?" asked Mat.

"What have you done!" exclaimed Levi, indignantly. "Besides being guilty of meanness and treachery, you have committed a crime which will send you to the state prison for the next ten years."

"Do you mean to say that I stole your uncle's money?"

"I didn't say anything of the kind. You and Dock Vincent conveyed Miss Watson on board of the Caribbee. That's a state-prison offence, to say nothing of stealing the money."

"Don't be hard on me, Levi."

"Hard on you! I'm not half so hard on you as you are on yourself. You were employed as a hand on board of this vessel, and you used your position to deceive Miss Watson, and get her on board of the Caribbee. You then came to me, with your mouth full of lies, and told me she had gone to Portland with her father, by railroad. I trusted you, and you betrayed me. I can forgive you, but I can never respect you again," said Levi, warmly.

"Don't be too hard on me, Levi," pleaded Mat. "I got into a scrape, and Dock helped me out; but he made me do everything he said after that."

"You needn't commit yourself to me. I don't ask you to make any confessions. Dock Vincent is in jail now, and the whole truth will come out in due time."

"What's the use!" exclaimed Mat, in despair. "I'm ruined now. If you'll let me go ashore here, I'll try to be an honest man."

"It is not for me to let you go, though I have no doubt you were the tool of Dock Vincent. I have no right to let you escape."

"I'll tell you all about it, Levi; and you will see what a bad scrape I was in," said Mat, fixing his eyes on the planks of the deck. "Your uncle borrowed a screw-driver in the shop——"

"Levi! Levi!" shouted Bessie Watson, who was in the standing-room, looking at the shipping in the vicinity.

The young skipper sprang towards her, fearful that some terrible event was about to happen; for Bessie was waving her handkerchief, and dancing about the deck like an insane person. A boat, with two gentlemen in the stern-sheets, was approaching the yacht, and at this Bessie was gazing with intense earnestness.

"What is the matter, Bessie?" asked he, looking at her, rather than the boat, to assure himself that her trials had not affected her reason.

"Why, don't you see, Levi?"

"I don't see anything. What is it?"

"My father! My father!" cried she, laughing, almost in hysterics.

Levi glanced at the boat. One of the gentlemen was certainly Mr. Watson, though he was not quite willing to believe the evidence of his own senses. The boat had approached near enough to enable him to be sure of the fact.

"It is my father!" repeated Bessie, as the boat ran up to the accommodation ladder, and Mr. Watson leaped on board of the yacht.

"My child! My child!" ejaculated the fond father, as he folded her in his arms.

"O, father!" exclaimed she, as she hugged him in a transport of joy.

Twined in each other's arms, they wept and laughed, in the exuberance of delight, at this happy reunion. Levi could hardly restrain his own tears as he gazed upon the affecting scene, and in the depths of his heart he thanked God, who had guided his little bark over the stormy ocean, half round the world, and enabled him to save Bessie from the hands of her grasping enemies.

"Levi!" said Mr. Watson, gently disengaging himself from his daughter's embrace, and giving the young captain his hand.

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Watson," replied Levi, grasping the offered hand.

"If Levi hadn't followed me, you would never have seen me again," added Bessie, throwing herself upon her father's breast again.

"God bless you, Levi!" exclaimed the delighted father, wringing the young man's hand again.

Mr. Watson seemed to be bewildered by the ecstasy of his joy. He grasped the hand of Augustus, who was so pleased that he forgot to use any high-flown speech. The gentleman who had come in the boat with Bessie's father was introduced to the party as the American consul.

"We did not expect to see you, Mr. Watson," said Levi.

"I have been in Melbourne for three weeks," replied he. "This is the port for which the Caribbee cleared at the Custom House. But where is the Caribbee?"

"She struck on a rock to the southward of King's Island, in the gale, yesterday morning. She has broken up before this time."

"And I was on board of her at the time," said Bessie.

"Though the Caribbee was twenty tons larger than The Starry Flag, we were just a match for her in sailing," added Levi. "We lost her a week out of New York, saw her again at the Cape of Good Hope, and then lost sight of her three or four times; but we arrived at the entrance of Bass Strait about the same time."

"I think I will not stop to hear the story now. Bessie, there is some one on shore who wishes to see you," replied Mr. Watson.

"Who? O, I know, father! It is mother! Come, let us go on shore, this minute!" exclaimed the bewildered girl, dancing about again, as this new joy dawned upon her.

Levi informed the consul that one of the conspirators had been saved from the wreck, and this gentleman promised to attend to the matter. The life boat was lowered; and leaving his mate in charge of the vessel, with strict injunctions not to let Mat Mogmore escape, Levi went on shore with Bessie and her father.

"My mother in Australia!" exclaimed Bessie.

"And Mrs. McGilvery, too!" added Mr. Watson.

"Why, then the whole family are here! Only think of it! I didn't expect to see you or mother for months yet."

"We could not do anything but come, for every hour seemed like an age to us," replied Mr. Watson. "When I received Levi's letter, I saw that nothing more could be done on our side of the world, and I decided to follow you. Dock Vincent assured me I should never see my daughter again; and I was satisfied by the confidence he exhibited, and the persistency with which he urged me to pay his demand, that the Caribbee had indeed sailed upon her long voyage. Levi's letter, written when he had been three days at sea, with the Caribbee in sight, fully confirmed my view. I was sorry Levi did not return to New York, instead of following the vessel."

"Why so?" asked Levi, blushing under the implied censure.

"If I had known the result in season, I might have sent a steamer in pursuit of the Caribbee. As it was, I did not get the letter till a week after her departure."

"The chances of a steamer finding the Caribbee were not more than one in fifty," replied Levi.

"I was sorry then, Levi; but I am not now. You have achieved almost a miracle, and I am willing to believe now that your course was the best and the safest. I decided at once to be in Melbourne when the Caribbee arrived. I sailed for England in the steamer with your mother and your aunt. We came from there by the way of Egypt, and landed here three weeks ago. I have an agent in every principal port in Australia on the lookout for the Caribbee. When any fore-and-aft vessel came into this harbor I was informed of the fact, and you may judge my surprise when I saw The Starry Flag. I will not tell you what I feared when I recognized her, for all that passed away when I saw Bessie on the deck;" and the devoted father clasped her in his arms again.

The party landed. In a few moments they reached the hotel, and Bessie was folded in the embrace of her mother.



CHAPTER XXVI.

CONCLUSION.

Mrs. Watson wept tears of joy over her lost child, now restored to her. Mrs. McGilvery declared that the pleasure of witnessing such a joyful meeting was worth a voyage half round the world, or, indeed, all the way round the world.

"Well, Levi, what shall we do next?" asked Mr. Watson, when the young skipper had been thanked and extolled by the ladies till his cheeks burned with blushes.

"Go home, I suppose, sir, unless the ladies desire to settle here," replied Levi.

"Doubtless we shall go home," added Mr. Watson; "but how shall we do it? I think the ladies will not care to be kept on board of the yacht for three months or more."

"I will do what I can to make them comfortable if they will return in The Starry Flag; but that is saying only a little."

"You would arrive on the coast of the United States in the middle of the winter, and you will see many heavy storms, and much bad weather," suggested Mr. Watson.

"Yes, sir; it was bad enough coming out here, especially after we left the Cape of Good Hope; but it would be worse returning. I cannot honestly advise them to go back in the yacht, glad as I should be of their company;" and Levi glanced at Bessie. "I think they had better go by the way you came."

"I am very clear of that," added Mr. Watson. "But, Levi, I can't bear the idea of your knocking about for three or four months, perhaps six, in such a small vessel."

"It won't hurt me any. I rather like it," laughed Levi. "I will have a stove put up in the cabin for use when we get into the cold region, and we shall be as comfortable as a bug in a rug."

"I'll tell you my plan, Levi. I can sell the yacht, and you can return with us by steamer."

"Sell The Starry Flag!" exclaimed Levi. "I should as soon think of selling my mother, if I had one. I love her, after the good service she has done, and I don't think any builder could get up another as good as she is. I know what she is now. She has weathered a hurricane, and don't mind an ordinary gale any more than a summer zephyr. Besides, I have a crew of six men, without the cook and steward. If you want to sell her, I'll buy her."

"She is yours now, and you may do as you please with her."

"Then I shall certainly take her home. She needs some repairs, and then she will be as good as new."

"If the ladies are willing, we will all go on board of her," said Mr. Watson. "We must make some arrangements for Mrs. Vincent and her children, and attend to Mat Mogmore's case."

The party went on board of the yacht. Mr. Watson summoned the crew, as soon as they reached the deck, and gave each of them a check for a thousand dollars. This little incident made the day a happy one to them, as well as to the members of Mr. Watson's family. He then asked Mrs. Vincent what she purposed to do; and Levi offered her a return passage in the yacht. She had been kind to Bessie, had been her companion and friend in her distress, and her conduct merited a grateful recognition. The poor woman did not know what to do. She had no idea what her husband had done with all the money he had collected. It was not to be found, and no one knew anything about it. It was afterwards ascertained that the proceeds of the sale of his house and furniture had been expended upon the fitting out of the Caribbee, and he had deposited the ten thousand borrowed of Mr. Fairfield in Boston until he was ready to leave the country.

Mrs. Vincent did not wish to return to her native land. Her husband had ruined himself and disgraced his family, and she did not care to meet the obloquy which awaited her in the midst of her friends. The consul informed her, when she had stated her views, that she could make a good living, and perhaps a competency, by keeping a boarding-house in Melbourne. Mr. Watson promptly offered to assist her to the means for making a beginning. Before the yacht sailed on her home voyage, the consul had purchased for her such an establishment as she needed, and she was in a fair way to do better for herself than her husband had ever done for her.

The consul met the family in the cabin of the yacht, and Mat Mogmore's case came up for discussion. The steward, and the other seamen from the Caribbee, had gone on shore to shift for themselves, as Mat would have done if he had been permitted.

"Mat says he got into a scrape, and Dock helped him out," said Levi, when the matter was brought up. "The old rascal had him in his power then, and made a tool of him in this business."

"What scrape did he get into?" asked Mr. Watson.

"I don't know. He began to tell me when your boat came alongside," replied Levi. "He said my uncle borrowed a screw-driver of him; but I don't know what this had to do with it."

"Send for him, Levi," added Mr. Watson. "If he tells the truth, and means to do well, perhaps we may do something to help him."

The steward was called, and directed to bring the prisoner—for such he was—into the cabin. Mat was on the stool of repentance. All his expectations had been blasted; and, whichever way he turned, the prospect was dark and forbidding, as it must sooner or later be to all evil-doers. Even if permitted to go on shore, he was alone and friendless in a strange land. The share he was to receive of Bessie's ransom had failed him; another evil speculation had also come to nought. If he returned to his native land in the yacht, it was only to be covered with merited disgrace, and to spend years of his life in the state prison.

When Mat Mogmore entered the cabin under the escort of the steward, he felt like a ruined man—one who, by his own folly and wickedness, had sacrificed all his hopes in this world. Mr. Watson and the consul spoke to him with the utmost plainness, the latter informing him that, if he declined to return home in the yacht, he should procure his arrest on a criminal charge.

"I will return in her, if you say so," blubbered Mat, whose pluck was all gone.

"If you wish to explain your conduct, you may do so," added Mr. Watson.

"I don't know as it's any use. I wish I had been drowned in the Caribbee."

"You began to tell me your story," said Levi.

"I was going to tell you how I happened to help Captain Vincent. He made me do it. I'll tell you about it, if you like."

"Go on," added Mr. Watson.

"Perhaps I'm worse than you think I am; but I'll tell the whole truth."

"That's what we want."

"Levi's uncle borrowed a screw-driver of me in the shop. I wanted to use it pretty soon, and I went over to Mr. Fairfield's after it. He was fixing a board to put over a hole in the plastering in his chamber. I saw he had cut away the laths, and I knew he wasn't putting up the piece to keep the cold out, as he said. I made up my mind he had money hid in that hole. At the fire, when the folks had left the room, and all the men were on the roof, I took off that board, for I thought the money would be all lost if there was any there. I found the four bags of gold. I dropped them out the window into the lilac bushes, and put the board up again. I didn't mean to steal it then. I never stole anything in my life, not even a pin."