he bridge we'll pepper
them with stones. If they return to their vessel, and go out the other
way, we can't help it. That's Harry Green's business. Simmonds," he
added, "go down and report to the first lieutenant that we have found
the pirates, that the robbers are with them, and that we are preparing
to attack them."

The midshipman was almost on the point of adding: "And tell him that he
had better send for re-enforcements and keep a bright lookout for the
Sweepstakes, for she may try to run by him;" but he did not say it, for
he knew that it was no part of his business to instruct his superior
officer. Harry was smart enough to attend to all such matters, and
Richardson was sure that he would neglect no precautions to insure the
capture of all the schooner's crew.

"Now," continued the young officer, when Simmonds had started off to
obey the order, "open fire on them, and drive them into the bushes, so
that they can't throw at us."

Although Richardson spoke in a tone so low that the governor could not
catch his words, he knew what he was saying, and saw the necessity of
making some arrangements to offer a decided resistance to the advance of
the students. "Atkins," he whispered, "go down an' bring up the rest of
the fellers. That bridge must come away from there, or them spooneys
will be down on us like a hawk on a June bug."

"Suppose we point our revolvers at them," said Sanders.

"What good will that do? They ain't easy scared, an' they know you
wouldn't dare to shoot them as well as you know it yourself. What I am
afraid of is, that they will send off after more help. We must get out
of here to onct, but we must throw that bridge down first, or they will
catch us before we can get our vessel under-way."

Scarcely had Sam ceased speaking when the artillery-men opened fire on
him, and he and his companions were driven to the shelter of the bushes;
but not until a potato, thrown by Jed, his former prisoner, had smashed
his lantern and extinguished the light. The bull's-eye of the dark
lantern was turned full upon the place where he had taken refuge, and,
although the artillery-men could not see him, they kept up a continuous
shower of missiles, hoping to confine him so closely in his concealment
that he could not return the fire. In this they thought they were
successful, for not a single stone was thrown from Sam Barton's side of
the chasm, and the midshipman, believing that he had retreated to his
vessel,