Down past the fort in Indian Hill they slipped, steered across to the old lighthouse, and tacked into the sound. “Hurrah!” cried Skipper Rattleton. “The breeze is with us, boys!” Then he sang a snatch of “A Life on the Ocean Wave.” “What do you think of my singing?” he asked. “It’s entirely by ear.” “Great heavens!” cried Merry, tragically. “That explains it!” “Explains what?” “Why, I didn’t think it possibly could be by mouth.” Browning grunted. It was as near as he could come to laughing without exerting himself. The boys took off their coats and prepared to enjoy life. All fell to smoking, with the exception of Frank. “Going to pitch on the nine this spring, Merry?” asked Bart. “I may,” answered Frank. “I was practicing yesterday, and I threw the ball a mile.” “What’s that? Threw a baseball a mile? Oh, come off!” “You see, I threw it at a mark.” “Well?” “I missed the mark.” “What of that?” “Isn’t a miss as good as a mile?” chuckled Frank. Rattleton came near having a fit. “If this keeps up,” said Diamond, “there will be a lot of maniacs on board before the _Jolly Sport_ sails back to New Haven.” As they passed a puffing tug, an old salt hailed them: “Better be careful, boys,” he called. “Careful? What for?” “There’ll be a reg’ler nor’wester to-night. This is a weather breeder.” “All right, cap,” returned Frank. “We’ll be back before night.” And they did not think of the warning afterward. Away down the harbor ran the _Jolly Sport_. The boys smoked, laughed, sang and joked. It was like a midsummer day. They took the East Channel out toward Brandford Point, and then set their course toward the Thimble Islands. After a time the wind freshened a little, and they put on their coats. The Thimbles were seen glistening in the bright sunshine. Harry had brought along a glass, and they took turns peering off toward the islands, of which there are said to be three hundred and sixty-five, one for each day in the year. The wind rose steadily till they had a “spanking breeze,” and the catboat danced along right merrily. “Perhaps we hadn’t better try to make the islands,” said Frank, but the others cried him down. “What’s the matter with you?” they demanded. “This is a beautiful breeze. Of course, we’ll go to the Thimbles.” They were enthusiastic, for the way the _Jolly Sport_ reeled along was exhilarating. Soon the glistening islands grew to bits of green and then took on definite shapes. “Look at that schooner yonder,” said Jack. “Isn’t she a queer-looking craft?” He pointed out a black two-master that was running up into the sound. There was something rakish about the slant of the masts, and the vessel seemed to creep over the water in a stealthy fashion. The boys watched her with increasing interest. “Makes me think of some of the stories of pirate vessels,” said Bart. “Jingoes!” exclaimed Diamond. “She does look like a pirate!” “But the days of pirates are past,” said Harry. “Probably she is a fishing vessel.”