and came down with a swift and horrible slash straight upon the
back of Mr. Hanlon's neck.

A single stroke was enough; Mr. Hanlon's head rolled off upon the
ground.

"Well done, Ketch," said Captain Lingo, quietly. "I doubt if there's
another hand on the Spanish Main could have done it."

Ketch blushed with honest pride at these gracious words. He swung his
bloody cutlass in embarrassment. All the pirates turned towards the pale
group on the grass, and Captain Lingo said, "Next!"

Freddie stood up. His knees began to tremble under him, and his heart
was beating so fast that he could hardly breathe. Aunt Amanda flung her
arms about him as he stood beside her, and cried "No, no, no!" in a
voice of anguish.

All eyes were on the Little Boy, as he stood awaiting his dreadful fate,
with Aunt Amanda's arms about him. His time had come. His friends were
waiting to see if he would be brave, and though his face was white his
courage did not fail him. He looked at them in farewell, and each one
gave him a tearful gaze in return.

He turned his eyes towards the warm and friendly landscape, for a last
look at the world he was about to leave. It would be hard to go, and he
would need all his strength to bear the--A loud cry from Freddie
startled all the others. "Look!" he cried, and pointed a shaking finger.

They looked, and what they saw was Mr. Hanlon.

By the log on which his head had been cut off, Mr. Hanlon was standing,
his hands behind his back, and his head in its proper place on his
shoulders. He was smiling and bowing, and as the astonished spectators
gazed at him with their mouths open, he sprang lightly into the air and
clicked his heels together as he came down.

[Illustration: Mr. Hanlon was standing by the log on which his head had
been cut off.]

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Toby in spite of himself. "Freddie, we've seen
that little act before, haven't we?"

Freddie nodded. He remembered very well the first time he had seen Mr.
Hanlon's head cut off, at the Gaunt Street Theatre at home; he wondered
that he had not thought of it before.

Captain Lingo was plainly very angry. His face turned a purple hue, and
the scar across his mouth showed very white. He fingered his knife
dangerously, and at the same time glared at Ketch, who was scratching
his head in bewilderment. The captain did not raise his voice, but he
spoke with deadly earnestness.

"A fine workman thou, friend Ketch," said he. "Truly a pretty ha