Some outward change had been produced in the men of the privateer, when all thoughts were suddenly turned into a new channel. A fast sailing American merchant ship informed Captain Knox that the expected East Indiaman was not more than half a day behind her. All was at once stir and bustle from stem to stern of the Molly. The sturdy little craft was like the bristling porcupine, ready and impatient for action, when the masts of the East Indiaman slowly rose above the horizon. The privateer gave chase at once, and rapidly neared its prey. The guns of the Molly gave the signal for surrender. The British flag went down, and Derry Duck, with a strong party of boarders was sent at once to seize the valuable prize. Ready to pounce on their defenceless victims, the eager sailors climbed the sides of the huge vessel and stood upon its deck, cutlass and pistol in hand. Suddenly the hatchways were thrown open, and a band of British soldiers sprang forth with a fierce battle-cry. Derry Duck rushed among them with desperate valor, and was heartily seconded by his fearless followers. From the deck of the Molly, Captain Knox could see the trap into which he had fallen. He could not use his well-loaded guns without destruction to his own men. He could only send reinforcements to their small band, and quietly see the battle fought hand to hand, which a few cannon balls would have settled in a moment. Several skilful British marksmen were firing at the few who remained on the approaching privateer, when Captain Knox ordered Blair aloft. Blair obeyed without a moment's hesitation, and sped upward as if in the glee of boyhood's play. Yet in the heart of the young patriot there was prayer for his soul, should it be set free in that hour of danger; there was burning love for his country's cause. The eye of Derry Duck fell on the isolated group who had been firing at the privateer. He saw a well-known form climbing to the dizzy masthead, while the shot were flying around him. Derry rushed in among them with his axe in his hand, and waving it around his head scattered them like leaves before the wind. He stayed long enough to see that Blair had not dropped like a wounded bird among the rigging of the Molly. Slowly, very slowly, the boy made his way to the deck, then sank down faint and bleeding. A bullet had entered his side; yet he had been so ready for the stroke that it had not thrown him off his guard. Although weak and giddy, he had made his way down his narrow pathway, and reported his duty done. Even the hardy captain gave a pitying glance at the brave boy as he was borne below by the sailors. Yet this was no time for such thoughts in the mind of Captain Knox. The reinforcement from the Molly were on the deck of the East Indiaman. He could hear the hearty cheer of Derry Duck as he placed himself at their head, and rushed upon the brave Britons.