the store-room, and compelled the burglars to pass up their
revolvers, threatening to shoot them on the spot if they did not
instantly comply with his demands; and a small skiff, which Captain
Steele had picked up the day before, to supply the place of the
jolly-boat, was in hot pursuit of the governor and Tom Newcombe, who
were tossing about in the waves, and swimming lustily for the shore. Sam
was overtaken and secured in spite of his desperate struggles; and,
during the delay he occasioned, Tom reached the beach and disappeared in
the woods. He was the only one of the Crusoe band who escaped.

The next morning, about ten o'clock, Johnny Harding, flushed with
triumph and excitement, burst into the store where Mr. Henry was busy at
his desk, and, with the air of one who did not think he had done any
thing very remarkable, placed the valise containing the seven thousand
dollars upon the counter, pulled a pair of navy revolvers from his
pockets and laid them beside the valise, and then, seeing that the
store had not yet been swept out, seized a broom and went to work. He
did not say a word, and neither did Mr. Henry, until he had counted the
money, when he came out from behind the counter and shook hands with his
clerk so cordially that Johnny dropped the broom and raised one knee
almost up to his chin.

"I never expected to see it again," said the grocer. "How shall I ever
repay you, Johnny? What do you want?"

"I want something good to eat, and about forty-eight hours' sleep,"
replied the clerk.

Mr. Henry told him to go home and get it, and Johnny started, but it was
an hour before he got out of the store. It soon became known throughout
the village that the yacht and two of the tugs had returned with the
robbers and some of the Crusoe men, and the people wanted to hear all
the particulars. Some questioned the students, others came into the
store, and Johnny could not get off until he had recounted his exploits.
He concluded by telling how he had come by the revolvers, and said if no
one had a better claim to them than he had, he would keep them to
remember the robbers by.

It was a long time before the events of that night ceased to be a topic
of conversation. Every body was astonished, especially at the daring and
vindictive spirit exhibited by Tom Newcombe, and many were the
conjectures indulged in as to what had become of him. The trial of the
"pirates," as the villagers soon learned to call them, came off in