“Raggett is a fair enough chap,” said Hoppy. “Of course, he has to obey orders, and he’s got to do the dirty work planned for him in London; but he’s not looking for trouble and if he doesn’t catch you in the act he lets a good many things pass.” “Damn this war, anyhow,” said Captain Knowles bitterly. “Yes, Win, damn the war if you like, but it had to come. Why, that last voyage Zeke Bangs made didn’t a British man-o’-war take four men out of his ship and he dare not kick! These Britishers think they own the world, land and water alike, and ’twas about time to let them know some other people had a few rights.” “Yes, but we weren’t prepared for war,” retorted Captain Knowles. “Seems to me we were just as much prepared as we were when the Revolution was started. Good Lord, man, how long do you think we should wait while this bully of the seas was driving us to desperation? Isn’t it bad enough to pay tribute to the Algerine pirates? Must we forever be treated as children? Does any sensible person think this American nation is going to remain in swaddling clothes until the crack o’ doom?” The argument continued with unabated vigor until the whaleboat was nearly abreast of the schooner which had been forgotten in the heat of the discussion. Suddenly a round shot plunged into the water and both skippers jumped to their feet. “What the devil is that for?” exclaimed Hoppy. “Well, it means that we’re caught in a trap,” replied Captain Knowles. And so it proved to be. The schooner which they had taken for an inoffensive fisherman was manned by British seamen from the “Spencer,” and was one of many captured craft which the enemy used for operations in the shallower waters of Cape Cod bay. A second shot brought the whaleboat to. As the schooner approached, the Americans felt all the bitterness of defeat. In Boston they had been told that they stood a good chance of getting home safely. The frigate had not been seen in the bay during the previous week, and they had started with high hopes of a successful run. Now they were in the toils and Tom Crosby’s two hogsheads of good Jamaica rum would cheer the thirsty foe! Friends in Eastham would miss the comforting gill which in those days was deemed essential to the perfect enjoyment of life. Altogether it was a most humiliating situation. Here were two of the most successful runners in the business held up by a stratagem which they should have foreseen and which the veriest landlubber would have looked out for. What a subject for Peter Walker’s sarcastic rhymes! The British bullets and bayonets were harmless compared with the poisonous shafts of Peter’s poetic quiver; their misery could be quickly ended by the former, but Peter’s undying verse could be read by future generations and Hoppy Mayo and Win Knowles would be the laughing-stock of posterity! “Boat ahoy!” “Hullo!” answered Hoppy.