Half-Past Seven Stories Part 6

"Ay, ay, sir," shouted the captain as a last farewell, then they set sail. They made quite a voyage of it and had some trouble, for the waves were rough and the seas were high, but they reached port safely at last.

They hadn't seen anything of the pirates yet, and they decided to make another try for it when Hepzebiah came to the wharf. She wanted to sail too, but the Captain only said, very thoughtfully,--

"It's not safe for the women an' children."

However, she cried so hard that they just had to let her on board.

"But if you come, you'll have to be my slave," the Captain told her.

Perhaps that is the reason why he let her sail at all. He wanted a slave very much and since Marmaduke wouldn't be one and was d.i.c.k Deadeye anyway, why, the little girl would have to do. Still she didn't care what she was called as long as she could sail on that fine s.h.i.+p.

So they sailed and they sailed, the white flag with the skull and the dead men's bones floating merrily in the breeze. And at last d.i.c.k Deadeye called,--

"Cracky! Look where we are! You'd better go back. Remember what the Toyman told us."

But Captain Jehosophat Kidd knew better.

"Pshaw! It isn't deep at all. It wouldn't drown a rat--not even a little mouse."

Then there _was_ trouble.

They heard shouts along the sh.o.r.e, and, looking back, saw Fatty Hamm, Reddy Toms, and Sammy Soapstone, jumping around like wild Indians.

They looked again--sharply this time--and saw that it wasn't boys after all, but pirates, wicked, cruel, bloodthirsty pirates! And that was bad enough!

"They're trying to capture us," shouted brave Captain Kidd, then, forgetting that his s.h.i.+p was a full-rigged s.h.i.+p and went by sail, he called,

"Row, brothers, row, The stream runs fast."

You see, he remembered that from a poetry book he had read once and thought it would just suit.

And all the time the crew of the "Jolly Roger" looked angrily back at sh.o.r.e.

"Splas.h.!.+"

A big stone fell near them. No, it wasn't a stone. It was a--cannon ball! The pirates on sh.o.r.e were trying to knock holes in their s.h.i.+p!

"You're awful shots," the Captain jeered fearlessly. "We're coming ash.o.r.e to capture your cannon." He was very brave through all these trying times--and so were the crew. And they just turned their s.h.i.+p around and headed straight for the sh.o.r.e, though the cannon b.a.l.l.s fell all around them.

But now a more terrible danger threatened. For the rascals on sh.o.r.e had seized long poles and were reaching out over the water, trying to smash holes in the s.h.i.+p, to stove in its hull.

"They're grapplin' irons and marlin spikes," explained the Captain, "and very terrible weapons." He must have been right, for he knew the ways of the sea.

Meantime the s.h.i.+p was beginning to rock. The crew looked around for rescue, but none was in sight.

"We'll sink your ole s.h.i.+p," shouted Pirate Fatty. "You're awful sailors."

And all the time, up and down, and down and up, went the poor little s.h.i.+p. Would they drown? Far off, d.i.c.k Deadeye saw the Toyman running, running as fast as he could towards sh.o.r.e. And Rover, too. He was barking for all he was worth, seeming to think it fun. But Rover was only a dog, and couldn't realize the danger at all.

At last the big fat pirate's pole hit the s.h.i.+p a terrible crack, and overboard Slave Hepzebiah fell.

d.i.c.k Deadeye reached for her, but his hand only touched her uniform, and over he fell, too, down in the coffee-colored waves.

It was way over his head. Down, down, he sank. He was terribly frightened, with water all around him and in his eyes and his nose and mouth. He was choking, but all he thought of, even then, was his little sister, the poor slave.

The first thing he knew, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and heard the Toyman's voice saying,--

"Hold on, Sonny, you're all right--just grab on to me."

He had always liked to be held close in the Toyman's arms, especially at night before the fire when he told them stories, but never had those arms felt as safe as now.

Then, all-of-a-sudden he thought--!

"Stop!" he tried to shout, but his mouth was almost too full of water to say anything, "get--blllllloooo--Hep-ze-bbbllllooo"--and then he had to stop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'They're grapplin' irons and marlin spikes,' explained Captain Jehosophat, 'and very terrible weapons.'"]

But the Toyman laughed as he pulled him safe on the sh.o.r.e.

"Look there," he said.

And Marmaduke did look, and there was Rover dragging his little sister out of the sea by the back of her dress.

The Toyman patted the brave dog on the head.

"He's the hero," he said, "good old Rover!"

Then something fine happened. At least Marmaduke and Jehosophat thought so. And we'll leave it to you to decide whether it was fine or not.

Now the pirates had started to run, but their chief, the big fat one, just before he reached the road, slipped in the mud. And down over the banks into the sea he fell, and the Toyman didn't trouble to fish him out, either. Of course, it wasn't very deep, but Fatty tumbled flat on his back, and the water covered him--all but his stomach, which stuck out above the water like the fat rump of a whale. He got up at last.

And a pretty sight he was, not like a bold pirate, but a great big "b.o.o.by," Mother said, with the mud all over his clothes, and the water going slippity slop in his shoes, and he shouting, "Bbbbbbllllllllloooooooooo--splutter--gerchoo!" worse even than Marmaduke.

Quick as a wink the Toyman lifted Marmaduke on one shoulder, the little girl on the other, as he always carried them, and took them into the house.

And soon their clothes were off, and dry ones on, and--best of all--some nice warm lemonade was trickling down just where the muddy water had been--down the Red Lane.

He felt greatly contented, did Marmaduke, for hadn't they beaten the "ol' pirates," and driven them away? And after that they had heaped coals of fire on their heads, as the minister used to say. Yes sir, they invited the big, fat chief of the pirates into their kitchen, though he didn't deserve it, and gave him some dry clothes, too, though he didn't deserve that, either, and some lemonade into the bargain.

Altogether, it was a very successful day.

IV

THE BLUE CROAKER, THE BRIGHT AGATE, AND THE LITTLE GRAY MIG

It is odd about Grownups--how mistaken they can be, how sadly mistaken. Now for instance, they _will_ insist there are only four seasons when, as every one who has lived in Boyland knows, there are scores more than that.