rsman when they come sailing
by."

He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, which were painted
black, so that, at a distance, they looked exactly like the real
thing. Upon his vessel were only six cannon, so when--a short time
afterwards--he was chased by a French privateer off the coast of
Scotland--he had an excellent opportunity to "bluff" the bold
marauder.

As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain Walker was on
kept steadily upon her way, and, through his glass, the cautious
mariner saw that his pursuer carried fully twenty guns.

"Run out our dummy cannon!" he ordered.

Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five in number,
and--as the Frenchman was now within shooting distance--the English
boat was luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, ensign,
and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a gun was fired across the
bow of the arrogant privateer.

"Come on!" shouted bold Walker. "I am waiting for you!"

But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, she turned tail in a
hurry, filled away, and made off as fast as a freshening breeze would
drive her.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English skipper. "Bluffed by a lot
of wooden guns. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer.

This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker was soon to meet
with some fortune which was quite the reverse.

It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had accepted the command
of the privateer _Mars_, of twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty
men, which sailed from London for a cruise in the English channel.
With her was the _Boscawen_, another privateer with about the same
number of guns, but with a crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They
soon had an adventure which was not all to the liking of bold George
Walker.

At midnight, late in December, the two privateers were running near
the coast of France. There was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh
breeze, so the steersmen could not well see what way they were going.
Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels loomed up in the blackness,
and the twinkling lights from their port-holes shone upon the dripping
sides of the British privateers. Voices came through the mist--French
voices--so it was apparent that the ships were not friends.

"Those fellows are showing much alarm," said Captain Walker, a few
moments later. "I therefore believe that the vessels are full of
treasure. We'll hang on until daylight, at an