“Fer my part,” said Ned Britton, speaking in his deliberate manner, “I think these pirates has been spyin’ on us ever since we anchored in the bay. They must have a path over the mountains that we don’t know of, for when the mate come up the inlet in the gig they was ready an’ waitin’ for him, and he didn’t have a chance to resist. ’Twere the same with me, sir. I crep’ along the edge o’ the channel, goin’ slow an’ swingin’ myself from tree to tree over the gulch—for the trees was too thick to get between ’em—until I come to this here place, where two men grabbed me an knocked me down an’ tied me up like a pig sent to market. The Major were with ’em, and swore he’d murder me if I didn’t tell him how many more were aboard the ship, an’ what her cargo was, an’ where we are bound for, an’ a dozen other things. But I kep’ mum, sir, as were my duty, an’ finally they brung me to this place, where I was mighty glad to find the mate and his men safe and sound.” We then related our own anxiety over the fate of those who had so mysteriously disappeared, and our final expedition in search of them. “We’ve found you, all right,” said Uncle Naboth, in conclusion; “but now the question is, what’s goin’ to become of us, an’ what shall we do to escape from these blamed pirates that’s captured us?” “Before you answer that question,” said a quiet voice, “it may be as well for you to listen to what I have to say.” We looked up and saw the great form of the Major standing in the clearing. How much of our conversation he had overheard we did not know; but after a lowering glance into our startled faces he calmly seated himself in the midst of the circle. “Thirteen, all told,” he said. “You seem shorthanded, for so big a schooner.” “We lost three men in the storm,” said Uncle Naboth. “What are you, the owner?” asked the Major. “Part owner.” “What is your cargo?” “Mixed,” replied Uncle Naboth, non-committally. The Major reflected a moment. “We shall soon find out all we wish to know,” he said. “We have both your boats, and we can examine the ship for ourselves.” “I s’pose you know this is a hangin’ matter?” suggested my uncle. “It may be,” was the calm reply. “At any rate, it is illegal, and I regret that circumstances force us to act illegally with you. As a matter of fact, I wish that I might have treated you with more courtesy. But you had no business to come to this island, and having come here, and surprised our great secret by penetrating into the center of the land, you must take the consequences of your folly. We did not want you here, and we kept out of your way as long as you would let us. When you invaded our private domain we were forced to protect ourselves.” “I don’t understand,” said my uncle, much puzzled by this speech. “We’re no robbers, ner pirates. We’re peaceful, citizens of the United States.”