ho were bound home to old England.
There were sad faces among those left behind to endure the perils,
hardships and loneliness of pioneers. Jack Cockrell's heart beat high
when he saw sweet Dorothy Stuart in the throng. He tarried ashore with
her until the boatswain's pipe trilled from the _Plymouth Adventure_ to
summon the passengers on board. Colonel Stuart, blonde and bronzed and
stalwart, escorted his winsome daughter and he praised Jack for his
deed of courage, telling him:

"There will soon be fewer pirates for you to trounce, I hope, my lad."

"The town will be a stupid place without a visit from the jolly rovers
now and then," honestly replied Jack, at which Colonel Stuart laughed
and his daughter suggested:

"With my brave knight in distant England, deliver me from any more
pirates."

Jack blushed and was both happy and sad when the dear maid took a flower
from her bodice and gave it to him as a token of remembrance. He
solemnly tucked it away in a pocket, stammered his farewells, and went
to join his uncle who waited in the yawl at the wharf. Once on board the
_Plymouth Adventure_, they were swept into a bustle and confusion.
Captain Jonathan Wellsby was in haste to catch a fair wind and make his
offing before nightfall. His sailors ran to and fro, jumping at the
word, active and cheery. Stately and slow, the high-pooped merchant
trader filled away on the larboard tack and pointed her lofty bowsprit
seaward.

The watches were set, ropes coiled down, and the tackles of the cannon
overhauled. The skipper paced the after-deck, a long telescope under his
arm, while the passengers lined the rail and gazed at the rude
settlement that was slowly dropping below the horizon. The sea was
tranquil and the breeze steady. The ship was clothed in canvas which
bellied to drive her eastward with a frothing wake. Safely she left the
outer bar astern and wallowed in the ocean swell.

The afternoon sun was sinking when a sail gleamed like a bit of cloud
against the southerly sky. Captain Wellsby held to his course and showed
no uneasiness. Soon another sail became visible and then a third, these
two smaller than the first. They might be honest merchantmen steering in
company, but the skipper consulted with his mates and the spy-glass
passed from hand to hand. The passengers were at supper in the cuddy and
their talk and laughter came through the open skylights.

Presently the boatswain piped the crew to quarters and the