was enough to push
the gunwale clear under. The boat filled and capsized, what with the
weight of the chest and the pressure of the canoe's fore part. Down to
the oozy bed sank Blackbeard's treasure.

The arch-pirate himself came charging out of the marsh-grass in time to
witness this lamentable disaster. His hoarse ejaculations were too
dreadful for a Christian reader's ears. Dumfounded for an instant, he
gathered his wits to fire another pistol at the pirogue. The ball flew
wild, as was to be expected of a marksman in a state of mind so
distraught. He had overlooked those two poor seamen of his who had been
impressed to bury the treasure, after which they were presumably to be
pistoled or knocked on the head. Dead men told no tales. Doomed
wretches, they were quick to snatch from this confusion the precious
hope of life.

The pockmarked fellow, who was powerfully built, whirled like a cat as
he heard Blackbeard's pistol discharged just behind him. There was no
time to draw and cock another pistol. The seaman fairly flew at the
pirate captain's throat. Down they toppled and vanished in the grass
together. A moment later Blackbeard bounded to his feet, a bloody dirk
in his hand. He had done for the poor fellow who lay groaning where he
fell. Terrified by this, the other seaman wheeled and fled to the bank
of the creek, seeking the pirogue as his only refuge.

He leaped for it but his feet slipped in the treacherous mud and his
impetus was checked so that he tumbled forward, striking the solid side
of the dugout with great force. He was splashing in the water but his
exertions were feeble. Either the collision had stunned him or he was
unable to swim. Bill Saxby and Jack Cockrell were trying to swing the
canoe clear of the boat and effect a landing. Trimble Rogers had rescued
himself from the creek and was ramming a dry charge into his dripping
musket. Blackbeard was a deadly menace and their attention was fixed on
him.

When they endeavored to lend a hand to the helpless seaman he had sunk
beneath the surface of the roily stream. They saw him come up and turn a
ghastly face to them, but he went down like a stone before a hand could
clutch at him. A few bubbles and this was the end of him. Jack Cockrell
hesitated with a brave impulse to dive in search of him although he knew
the bottom was a tangle of rotted trees, but just then Bill Saxby yelled
to him to follow ashore with a paddle for a weapon. The luckless seaman