“Of those heroic men who were distinguished in the American Revolution on land or sea, the far greater part have been depictured by able pens. Monuments have been erected, biographies have been written, and the elegant historian has adorned their memory with unfading wreaths. * * * But there is one man of no mean rank in the day of struggle--a pioneer of our infant navy--who took more prizes, fought more sea fights, and gained more victories than, with a very few exceptions, any naval hero of the age.”--From Shepard’s _Life of Captain Samuel Tucker_. “He did his part, and did it nobly, while our navy was in an embryo state, and only consisted of a few armed sloops and schooners, and yet performed such essential service in supplying the destitute army of Washington.”--From _American Almanac_, 1835. “It is well enough to bring the body of Paul Jones across the ocean and bury it in American soil with appropriate honors. But the nation should not forget that another man--Captain Samuel Tucker--lies in a neglected grave today; yet no man captured more prize ships, or did more to feed and clothe the army of Washington than he.”--From _The Herald_, editorial, 1905. The incidents of this book are taken largely from the log-book of Captain Tucker, and are intended to picture the stirring times in which he lived, and the thrilling adventures in which he engaged. Midshipman Arthur Dunn, one of Captain Tucker’s officers, is the narrator, and his story covers the five years during which his commander played no small part in naval affairs. It is hoped the narrative will arouse in the heart of every reader an admiration for the brave Captain, and rescue from oblivion the name of another of our Continental heroes--the man who did so much to keep the land forces of our Revolutionary struggle supplied with ammunition and stores at the expense of the enemy. WILLIAM P. CHIPMAN. IN SHIP AND PRISON CHAPTER I I GO IN SEARCH OF CAPTAIN TUCKER I cannot remember the time when I did not love the sea, nor is that strange. I was born in sight of the ocean. My father, and, as for that matter, his father before him, was a sailor. My first recollections are of boats and oars, of vessels and ropes and sails. At fourteen I had made a trip to the Great Banks on a fishing smack and at sixteen my knowledge of the Atlantic coast reached from Newfoundland to Charleston. Tall for my age, strong and hardy from constant toil and exposure, and familiar with all sorts of sailing craft from a shallop to a ship, I counted myself an able-bodied seaman. I now had one ambition--to voyage to foreign ports.