olly to think of trying to
escape along the coast. And to wander inland, ignorant of the country,
was to court almost certain death. Nor could he now expect mercy from
Blackbeard, having deserted the ship against orders and known to be a
true friend of Captain Stede Bonnet.

The most unhappy lad could no longer hold his cramped station in the
tree and he decided to seek the canoe and find the meagre solace of a
little food and water. He was half-way to the ground when he clutched a
limb and halted to peer into the swamp. Something was splashing through
the mud and grass and making a prodigious fuss about it. Then Jack heard
two voices in grunts and maledictions. Fearing the enemy might have
tracked him, he stood as still as a mouse in the leafage of the oak.

Out of the swamp emerged a young man with a musket on his shoulder.
Behind him came one very much older, gaunt and wrinkled, his hair as
gray as the Spanish moss that overhung his path. They reached the edge
of the creek and then turned down to halt where the pirogue had been
left. At failing to find it there, they argued hotly and were much
distressed. Jack Cockrell's fears were calmed. These were no men of
Blackbeard's company, but good Bill Saxby and his mate. He called to
them from his perch and they stood wondering at this voice from heaven.

In a jiffy Jack had slid down and was beckoning them. They hurried as
fast as they could pull their feet out of the muck, and were overjoyed
to jump into the hidden canoe. There they sat and thumped Jack Cockrell
on the head by way of affectionate greeting. The younger man had a
chubby cheek, a dimple in his chin, and blue eyes as big and round as a
babe's.

"Bill Saxby is me," said his pleasant voice, "and a precious job had I
to get here. Joe Hawkridge told me of you, Master Cockrell."

"Where is Joe?" cried Jack, dreading to hear his own opinion confirmed.

"Marooned, along with two dozen luckless lads that were trapped like
pigeons----"

"'Twas more like turtles all a-sleepin' in the sand," the old man
croaked in rusty accents. "A few was sharp awake and they fought pretty
whilst the rest rallied, but they got drove with their backs to the
swamp and a deep slough. Then the sloop turned her guns on 'em and they
struck their colors."

"And Joe Hawkridge sided with his friends, of course," said Jack.

"Would ye expect aught else of him?" proudly answered Bill Saxby. "He
searched us out where we lay trussed like