Off, then, started all the boys, headed by Mr. Long, who, in his excitement, no longer cared about the ragged regiment at his heels. For three good miles they footed it bravely, and at length stood in front of Captain Corbet’s door. Mr. Long entered, and found the navigator seated in his kitchen by the fireplace, dandling the babby. The wife of his bosom was setting the breakfast table. “Good morning,” said Mr. Long. “Why, it’s Mr. Long! Railly now,” said Captain Corbet. “An’ it shall see Mr. Long, too,--so it shall,” he continued, holding up the babby, who fastened its large blue eyes upon the visitor. Mr. Long turned away, and spoke aside with Mrs. Corbet. Rightly considering that she was the true head of the house, he begged her not to let them be disappointed again. He was successful. Mrs. Corbet assured him that the moment breakfast was over she would send him off. “And we will wait,” said Mr. Long. So they waited patiently; and at last Captain Corbet tore himself away from his house, his wife, and his babby, and went to the schooner, accompanied by the ragged regiment of boys. It was about ten o’clock, and the schooner was afloat. All tumbled on board. The hawswrs were unloosed. Captain Corbet had to go ashore to get a man whom he called his “mate;” but as Mr. Long went with him but little time was lost. At last the sails were hoisted. The wind filled them, and the Antelope moved slowly from the wharf. A loud, ringing cheer arose as the schooner started. Before the last notes died away, however, a man was seen running down toward the wharf. He was short and fat, and panted heavily. Reaching the wharf, he cast one look of consternation at the place where the garden wall had been, and another at the schooner. “They’ve done it, by jingo!” he exclaimed. “Hallo there!” he screamed. “Did you go and take my fence for ballast, Corbet?” “No, I didn’t!” yelled Corbet. “You did, you scoundrel! Harris saw those young reprobates passing the stones on board. Bring them back at once, every one of them, or I’ll make you sup sorrow!” Here Mr. Long stepped forward. “It’s all right,” said he. “It’s no matter--” “What!” cried the owner of the fence. “I say it is _not_ all right; and it _is_ matter. Bring me back my fence!” “I’ll bring it back.” “I’ll have the law of you!” “All right. We’ll replace it.” “Bring it back!” “All right.” “Bring--back--my--fence--!” Further and further away the schooner moved, and fainter and fainter grew the voice that called after them, till at last but a low and scarcely audible tone could be heard. As the vessel moved away, Bart stood at the mainmast. He had worked hard the day before, running some lanyards through the truck, and now the moment had come for his reward. Bruce Rawdon fired his pistol, and as the report died away, up to the mast head went the black flag of the “B. O. W. C.” And all the boys greeted it with a cheer. IV.