engaging innocence, as she seems best to do when foul deeds are afoot, and the freshening wind brought the sound of church bells from off shore. At the ninth peal, the little launch with its self-important "put, put," headed for the yacht. They hove alongside, Phil hailing the solitary watch a trifle pugnaciously. A head appeared over the taffrail, as if ready for resistance. But recognizing the young son of the owner, the sailor let down the ladder, and the six adventurers climbed aboard.
Hearing voices on deck, the old engineer came above. He touched his cap to Phil, but this futile deference was all that he showed him, and the boy, in his nervousness to be off, commanded a little too brusquely:
"Get up shteam at once, Stephens!"
The latter was stubborn and did not budge from the companion way.
"Your father hasn't given his orders, sir," he said, as if that settled it.
"Look here, old boy, you do as I tell you or you'll be fired," stormed the prince chap with alcoholic ugliness.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Philip, but I only take orders from your father."
At a sign from MacAllister, Pushbutton Pete and the Pink Swede ranged themselves on either side of the recalcitrant engineer, the first confronting him.
"Stephens, you'll either get up steam or go overboard."
At the answering protest,—"Why this is piracy!" Pete's hairy hand was over his mouth, and he was catapulted by four strong arms into the bay.
