The Black Buccaneer

  CHAPTER XXVI

  It was on the second morning after the boys had reached New York thatthe _Indian Queen_ went down the harbor, her canvas drawing merrily inthe spanking breeze of dawn. The intervening day had been spent at thedock-side, where wide-breeched Dutch longshoremen were stoutly hustlingbales and boxes of merchandise into the hold. Jeremy had watched thepassers along the river front narrowly, though he could not help havinga feeling that Pharaoh Daggs was gone. The fancy would not leave hismind that there was some connection between the vanished pirate and thedark vessel he had seen stealing out on the night tide.

  A strong southwest wind followed them all day as the _Queen_ ran pastthe low Long Island shore, and that night, though Captain Ghent gaveorders to shorten sail, the ship still plunged ahead with uncheckedspeed. They cleared the Nantucket shoals next day and saw all throughthe afternoon the sun glint on the lonely white dunes of Cape Cod.

  Two more bright days of breeze succeeded and they were working upoutside the fringe of islands, large and small, that dot the coast ofMaine.

  Jeremy was too excited even to eat. He stayed constantly by the man atthe helm and was often joined there by Bob and the Captain, as they drewnearer to the Penobscot Bay coast. In the morning they dropped anchor infifteen fathoms, to leeward of a good-sized fir-clad island. Jeremy hada dim recollection of having seen it from the round-topped peak abovehis father's shack. His heart beat high at the thought that tomorrowmight bring them to the place they sought, and it was many hours beforehe went to sleep.

  At last the morning came, cloudless and bright, with a little southbreeze stirring. Before the sun was fairly clear of the sea, the anchorhad been catted, and the _Queen_ was moving gracefully northeastwardunder snowy topsails.

  They cleared a wide channel between two islands and Jeremy, forward withthe lookout, gave a mighty shout that brought his chum to his side onthe run. There to the east, across a dozen miles of silver-shimmeringsea, loomed a gray peak, round and smooth as an inverted bowl. "It's theisland!" cried Jeremy, and Captain Ghent, turning to the mate, gave ajoyful order to get more sail on the ship.

  About the middle of the forenoon the _Queen_ came into the wind and heranchor went down with a roar and a splash, not three cables' lengthsfrom the spot in the northern bay where Jeremy and his father had firstlanded their flock of sheep. On the gray slope above the shore the boyscould see the low, black cabin, silent and apparently tenantless. Behindit was the stout stockade of the sheep-pen, also deserted, and above,the thin grass and gray, grim ledges climbed toward the wooded crest ofthe hill.

  Jeremy's face fell. "They must have gone," he said. But Bob, standing bythe rail as they waited for the jollyboat to be lowered, pointedexcitedly toward the rocky westward shoulder of the island. "Lookthere!" he cried. Three or four white dots were moving slowly along theface of the hill.

  "Sheep!" said Jeremy, taking heart. "They'd not have left thesheep--unless----"

  But the boat was ready, below the side, and the Captain and the two boystumbled quickly in. Five minutes later the four stout rowers sent thebow far up the sand with a final heave on the oars. They jumped out andhastened up the hill. There was still no sign of life about the cabin,but as they drew near a sudden sharp racket startled them, and aroundthe corner of the sheep-pen tore a big collie dog, barking excitedly. Hehesitated a bare instant, then jumped straight at Jeremy with a whine offrantic welcome.

  "Jock, lad!" cried the boy, joyfully burying his face in the sable ruffof the dog's neck. In response to his voice, the door of the cabin wasthrown open and a tall youth of nineteen stepped out, hesitating as hesaw the group below. Jeremy shook off the collie and ran forward. "Don'tyou know me, Tom?" he laughed. "I'm your brother--back from thepirates!"

  The amazed look on the other's face slowly gave place to one ofhalf-incredulous joy as he gripped the youngster's shoulders and lookedlong into his eyes.

  "Know ye!" he said at length with a break in his voice. "Certain I knowye, though ye've grown half a foot it seems! But wait, we must tellfather. He's in bed, hurt."

  Tom turned to the door again. "Here, father," he called breathlessly."Here's Jeremy, home safe and sound!" He seized his brother's hand andled him into the cabin. In the half-darkness at the back of the room thelad saw a rough bed, and above the homespun blankets Amos Swan's beardedface. He sprang toward him and flung himself down by the bunk, his headagainst his father's breast. He felt strong, well-remembered fingersthat trembled a little as they gripped his arm. There was no word said.