went on his companion,
'an' we've been spied on an' followed.'

'It's a little boat. There can only be one,' said the other.

'Stand by the boat,' said the man aboard. 'I'll settle the spy.' And
he clinched his words with a dreadful oath.

'Don't go too far,' said the man in the boat, who was a more timorous
fellow.

'Too far!' growled the other. 'It's sink or swim with us now. There's
somebody on this old barky as is fly to our little game, an' his mouth
has got to be stopped. Wait; stave his boat in, and you keep in ours.
Stave it in now while I'm here. He won't run away.' And again the
desperate thief broke into a volley of savage imprecations.

Chippy had heard all this, and recognised how true was the last
assertion of the infuriated rogue. There was no running away from the
barquentine. No prison surer while his boat was in their hands. And
at the next moment there was a crash of boat-hook on wooden plank.
Three blows were struck. The little boat was not new, and its timbers
gave easily. Three planks were staved in; it filled and sank.

'It's gone,' said the man in the boat; and his companion turned to
search for him who had approached the barquentine in it.

Chippy had left the companion and darted forward while they talked.
The sounds of the planks going in his boat told him that his case was
desperate; his retreat was cut off. He found the stump of the
foremast, and crouched behind it, and lay still. Twice the man in
search of him crept round the vessel in the darkness, and Chippy
shifted noiselessly from side to side as he passed.

There were movements aft, and suddenly a flood of light streamed along
the deck. The searcher had fetched up the lantern, regardless of the
chances of the light being seen ashore, and flung its full blaze
forward.

The slide was turned at the lucky moment for the rogue who held it.
Chippy stood beside the foremast, one hand laid on it, his head bent
and listening for any sound. The ring of light fell full upon him, and
the desperate ruffian gave a growl of satisfaction when he saw his prey.

CHAPTER XXV

A NARROW SHAVE

'It's a kid--a cheeky kid,' he cried in low, savage tones. 'I'll soon
settle him.'

'P'raps he'll keep quiet. Ask him if he'll swear to say nothin'?'
called out the man in the boat, his tones low and eager.

'Shut up!' snarled the other; 'as if any kid could keep quiet! I ain't
a-goin' to do time for the likes of him. Not