Here followed the sound of keels grating upon the sand. Through the gloom Tom could discern two large boats, in each of which were a half dozen men, armed to the teeth. Somehow, the voice of the last speaker sounded strangely familiar; Tom, who, like his two companions, lay flat upon the sand, crawled forward for a space in order that he might obtain a better view. As it chanced, in his path were a quantity of dry shells; and as he drew himself over these, they made a crackling noise. “What’s that!” whispered one of the men in the boat nearest Tom. “What do you mean?” “Didn’t you hear a sound from the beach over there?” A laugh followed this. “You thought you heard hoofs awhile ago,” said the second voice, from the other boat. “It’s all your imagination.” “Well, tar my old rigging!” cried the other, obstinately. “I heard something just then, and I’m going to see what it was.” The speaker leaped out upon the sand, a cutlass in his right hand and a lantern in his left. He slowly advanced, his lantern flashing this way and that, until at last its rays rested upon a bronzed, youthful, smiling face gazing calmly, from the sand, into his own. “Tom Deering,” he almost shouted, his eyes wide with surprise. “Uncle Dick!” cried Tom in return, and in a moment he had sprung to his feet and gripped the old sea-dog in a hug like that of a cinnamon bear. “Easy, lad, easy!” gasped Uncle Dick. “If you grip me any tighter you’ll smash my hull and bring the masts by the board.” He wrung his nephew’s hand warmly, his weather-beaten face all wrinkled with smiles, his long gray cue almost bristling from pure joy. “I thought you were one of the enemy’s spies,” said he at last after he had greeted the grinning Cole, and had had Nat presented to him. “But what in old Neptune brings you here? Tell me all about it.” In a few moments Tom had acquainted him with the facts of his expedition to Charleston. The old man wrung his hand once more as he finished. “Brave boy,” cried he, delighted beyond measure. “So you saved Laura from that swab, Harwood, did you! Well, you’ll never do a better thing in your life! And you have a company of friends back there a piece, did you say?” “Yes, there are a round score of us, all told.” “You are not too much done up to take a hand in another little enterprise before the night’s over, eh, lad?” “No,” cried the young scout, eagerly. “I can speak for all my friends, I know. What is it, Uncle Dick?” “Down there,” and the old seaman pointed to the water’s edge, “I have two boats, and in them is the biggest part of the crew of the four-gun schooner, Defence.” “Then your schooner was not taken by the enemy when they captured Charleston!”