“But the execution was a bungling and awful thing. Kidd, standing with the noose about his neck, was pestered, browbeaten and cajoled to confess, but stoutly maintained his innocence. As he was swung off, the rope broke and the poor, tortured, groaning man was again hoisted to the scaffold where, despite his suffering, a minister and others exhorted him to confess his crimes and reveal the hiding places of his treasure. But between pitiful groans and pleas for a speedy death, Kidd still maintained that he had no treasure and had told only the truth. Finally, despairing of wringing a confession from one who had nothing to confess, he was hanged until dead. His entire estate, consisting of less than seven thousand pounds, was confiscated and presented to the Greenwich Hospital, where, by all that was right and just, it should have proved a curse rather than a blessing. “No one ever knew what became of the Queda or her treasure, but, no doubt, as Kidd claimed, she was scuttled by the mutinous crew and the loot divided between them was scattered to the four winds. Upon that slender mystery of the disappearance of the valuables of the Queda were built all the tales of Captain Kidd’s buried treasure, and upon the farce of a trial and the conviction of the unfortunate seaman for killing a mutinous gunner in self-defense, was reared the undying fame of Captain Kidd.” “Gee, that was a shame!” declared Jack. “I feel really sorry for poor old Captain Kidd. Think of Morgan being knighted and honored after all he did and Kidd being hung for nothing.” “You must bear in mind that times had changed since Morgan’s day,” said Mr. Bickford. “The romantic, picturesque buccaneers were a thing of the past, and England and her colonies were waging a relentless war on pirates. In a way we must not be too hard on the authorities for their treatment of Kidd. They were intent on discouraging piracy and doubtless felt that, even if there was a question of Kidd’s guilt, his death would be a wholesome warning to any seamen who felt inclined to turn pirates. But it certainly is a wonderful example of the irony of fate to think of Kidd winning undying fame as a bold and ruthless pirate when—even if he were guilty—he could not have been charged with taking more than one ship, while others, who destroyed hundreds and ravaged the seas for years, have been totally forgotten. There was not even anything romantic, daring or appealing to the imagination in Kidd’s career. In contrast, consider the most romantic corsair who ever pirated in the Caribbean, a veritable knight errant of the seas, a scion of royalty, known as Prince Rupert of the Rhine.” “Why, I never ever heard of him!” exclaimed Fred. “What did he do?”