my awakening; but suddenly something bumped against the
sloop's counter. I thought when I opened my eyes:

"Here they are! Now for some fun."

I supposed they would not have seen my light and I was going to put my
head out of the cabin and scare them before they could do the
Wavecrest any harm.

But as it proved, the bumping of the small boat against the sloop did
not announce the arrival of the enemy. Almost instantly--I had not got
into my trousers, indeed--there came a great hammering at the cabin
door.

I did not speak, although at first I supposed the rascals were knocking
to arouse me. Then it shot across my bewildered mind that somebody was
nailing up the cabin door!

"Hello there! stop that!" I bawled, getting interested in the
proceedings right away.

But there was no answer, unless certain whisperings that I could not
understand could be considered as such. Several long nails--twenty-penny,
I was sure--were driven home. Then there was a clattering of boots and
the small boat bumped the sloop's counter again.

They were getting into their own boat. They had left me in a nice
fix--nailed up tightly in the cabin of my boat. I was mad 'way through;
instead of playing any joke on Paul Downes and his friends, they had
played me a most scurvy trick.

But it was only comedy as yet--comedy for them, at least. I was pretty
sure that they had fixed me in the cabin, not only for the night, but
until somebody passing in a boat would see me signalling from the tiny
deadlights. And goodness only knew when the gale would subside enough to
tempt any other boatman out upon the bay.

The sloop was still pitching at the end of her cable. I could feel the
tug of the moorings as my enemies got into their boat. Then--in half a
minute, perhaps--there was a startling change in the sloop's action. She
leaped like a horse struck with a whip and instantly began to roll and
swing broadside to the gale.

I knew at once what had happened. The cable had parted; the Wavecrest
was adrift!

The discovery alarmed me beyond all measure. I was panic-stricken--I
admit it. And I earnestly believe that almost any other person who had a
love of life within them would have felt the same.

For to be adrift in Bolderhead Harbor on such a night, with the wind
and tide urging one's craft out toward the broad ocean, while one was
nailed up in the cabin and unable to do a thing toward guiding the boat,
was a situation to shake the courage of