egan his narrative of his once-time
scrap with Captain William Broome, of unpious memory.

"That was one of the most unusual jobs I ever tackled when I took
command of the _Storm King_ for J. J. Singleton."

"That's the famous mining man, who used to live in San Francisco,"
remarked John Berwick.

"The same fellow," continued the old sailor, "and in spite of his money
he had a lot of sensible ideas. You see, old 'J. J,' as he was known
hereabouts, had three sons, the oldest seventeen, and their mother being
dead for some years he brought 'em up according as he thought best. Had
'em work in one of his mines learning to run an engine and earning their
own money. The youngest was on a big cattle ranch that the old man owned
down in the southern part of the state.

"He told the boys that when they earned a certain amount they could put
it into a steam yacht and what was lacking he would make up. Maybe those
kids didn't work hard for some years until they had what was needed. I
had been in command of one of Singleton's coasting ships and the old
man picked me to take charge of the _Storm King_, which was the fool
name of the yacht that they invested in, but there was nothing the
matter with the boat herself.

"'Teach 'em navigating, Captain,' he says to me in his final
instructions, 'and give 'em a taste of the rope's end if they ain't
sharp to obey orders.'

"But shucks, I had no trouble with them boys, they weren't like rich
men's sons, but knew what hard work meant and could obey orders as well
as give 'em. The oldest one's name was John--about your size," pointing
to Jim, "but one of those sandy complected chaps, with white eyelashes
and cool, gray eyes and no end of grit. The other two named Sam and Joe,
were active, competent lads, and they had brought with them a friend off
the cattle ranch, whom they called 'Comanche,' and I want you to know
that boy was some shot with a revolver, rifle or cannon.

"Well, the second day out was where Captain Bill Broome put in an
appearance. He was a smuggler and cutthroat in those days, and did a
little kidnaping on the side."

"He hasn't reformed yet either," put in Jim.

"Not him," agreed the narrator; "he thought that he would make a rich
haul on this occasion if he could get hold of the three Singleton boys
and hold them for ransom. As soon as I saw the long, gray _Shark_, which
I was quick to recognize, and noticed how she hung on our course, I knew
what the game was