nging it back and forth as he brought the cannon's
muzzle to bear on the topsails of the pirate schooner, whose black hull
was now plainly visible. He sniffed the wind and measured the distance
with his eye. When his calculations were complete he turned and held up
his hand in signal to the helmsman. As the swivel allowed movement only
from side to side, he must depend on the cant of the deck for his
elevation. Holding the long gunner's match lighted in his hand, he
waited for the exact second when the schooner's bow was lifted on a wave
and swinging in the right direction, then touched the powder train.
There was a hiss and flare, and at the end of a second or two a terrific
roar as the charge was fired. The smoke was blown clear almost
instantly, and every one leaned forward, watching the sea ahead with
tense eagerness. At length a column of white spray lifted, a scant
hundred yards astern of the other sloop. The crew cheered, for it was a
splendid shot at that distance and in a seaway. The sky was thickening
to windward, and it grew harder momentarily to see objects at a
distance. Job was already at work, superintending the swabbing-out of
the gun and reloading with his own hands. There was a long moment while
he waited for a favorable chance, then "Long Poll" shook the deck once
more with the crash of her discharge. This time the shot fell just ahead
and to windward of the enemy--so close that the spray blew back into the
rigging.

Job had bracketed his target, but the mist-clouds that were sweeping
past rendered his task a difficult one. Grimly but with swift certainty
of movement he went about his preparations for a third attempt.

Suddenly there was a shout from Jeremy, who had climbed into the
forestays for a better view. "Look there!" he cried. "They're lowering a
boat. There's something white in it, like a flag of truce!"

In the lee of the pirate vessel a small boat could be seen tossing
crazily in the heavy seas. Job, who had called for his spyglass, looked
long and earnestly at the tiny craft.

"There's but one man in it," he announced at length, "and he's showing a
bit of something white, as Jeremy says. Here, lad, you've the best eyes
on the sloop, see if you can make out more."

The boy focussed the glass on the little boat, which was now drifting
rapidly to the southeast, already nearly opposite their bows. The figure
in it stood up, waving frantic arms to one side and the other.

"It's Bob!" Jere