"Good riddance to bad rubbish," soliloquized the jailer, as he stood in his door and saw Enoch and Zeke cross the way and place his horse pistols close against the fence. "I kinder reckoned on seeing Caleb here to-night, but I am glad he didn't come. That magistrate has arrested him for not paying his fine, but where is he? Go your way," he added, shaking his fist at Zeke, who was hurrying down the street engaged in an earnest conversation with his young friend. "It won't be long before I will have you here, too."

"Now, Enoch, where is he?" said Zeke, after he had placed the horse pistols where their owner could easily find them. "He is not in jail; we know that for a fact."

"No, but he is shut up all the same," replied Enoch. "If we don't find him to-morrow the next thing we shall hear of him he will be safe in New York."

"Bussin' on it, what do you mean?" inquired Zeke, profoundly astonished. "Who is going to take him to New York?"

"The Margaretta."

"Whoop!" yelled Zeke. "I can't make head nor tail of what you are saying."

"The magistrate and Mr. Howard have gone to work and had him arrested," said Enoch, confidently. "They know he would be rescued if he was put in jail, and so they have taken him aboard that schooner."

Zeke stopped in his walk and held the lantern up and looked searchingly into Enoch's face. He saw nothing there but an expression of pain, and he knew that Enoch was in earnest in all that he said.

"And when they get him to New York are they going to put him in jail until that fine is paid?" asked Zeke.

"I believe that is what they mean to do. I wonder why they don't take him to Boston; but then I suppose the schooner is not going that way."

Zeke lowered his lantern and resumed his walk with his eyes fastened on the ground. Enoch did not interrupt him, for he knew that he was meditating on something.

"Well, then, there is not anything more that we can do to-night," said he. "I believe you have hit the truth on the head. Now you go home and let your mother see that you did not run into any traps while you were gone. I'll go and see Mrs. Young, and tell her that her boy will be all right to-morrow. You will be on hand when you hear that cheer?"

"Yes, and I will be on hand no matter whether I hear it or not. If Caleb goes to New York I am going to go, too. I will be around when you take those men out of their seats in church."

Zeke did not say anything in reply. He was thinking too busily. He raised and lowered his lantern three times in succession, just as a man-of-war does when she meets one of our vessels at sea, and hurried off. Enoch watched him until he saw him go into Mrs. Young's gate, and then turned toward his home.

"It come onto me all of a sudden and so I spoke it out," said he, to himself. "It is the neatest thing I ever heard of. If he had been in jail we would have had him sure, for I never saw Zeke so mad as he was when he held that club over that jailer's head. I wish I could get just one word to Caleb. He would know that folks were suffering here on account of his long absence."

It did not take long for Enoch to explain the situation to his mother when he got home. Mrs. Young had gone away before he came, for she kept thinking that Caleb would get away somehow and that he would come home and find her gone.

"She need not have worried on that score," said Enoch, when his mother explained this to him. "He is in the brig on board that schooner, and he will stay there until we capture the officers to-morrow. Good night, mother, I guess I will go to bed."

This was all an excuse on Enoch's part. He went to bed, but not to sleep. He felt as many an old soldier feels on the night preceding a heavy battle. He knew that he had to take chances of coming out uninjured, and the thought of what those dear to him might say and feel if he should fall, effectually banished sleep from his eyes. Not once did he close his eyes in slumber, but he was up at the first peep of day and engaged in building a fire. It might be the last fire that he would ever set to cook his own breakfast with, but his mother did not see any traces of misgiving on his part. He greeted her with his regular morning kiss, and went about his duties as he always did; but his ears were sharply tuned to catch that cheer which he knew would be sounded before night.

"Now, mother," said Enoch, when nine o'clock was drawing near and the dishes had all been washed and put away, "I guess I will go down to the wharf and see what is going on there. If Caleb is aboard that boat he has got to come off. What would I do if that fellow was in a New York jail? The magistrate fined him that much on purpose. It is more money than Caleb ever saw."

"Be careful, my son, that you don't get into trouble yourself," said his mother.

This was all the parting that took place between them. Enoch went without his gun, for he did not want to attract attention, as he would have done if he had had the piece on his shoulder. More than that, Zeke had not told him to bring anything with him, and he concluded that there would be enough men on hand to arrest all the officers who came ashore to church. Before he had left his home fairly out of sight he found Zeke loafing about on a corner. It was not often that Zeke spent his time in that way. He was generally going ahead as if he had some business to attend to.

"Good morning," said Enoch, as soon as he came within speaking distance. "You see I have not brought my gun with me."

"That's all right," said Zeke. "Are you going to help take those fellows out of the church? All right again. Now I am here, and O'Brien and Wheaton are on the other corners, to stop everybody that is on our side and tell them not to show themselves about the church until after the officers get safely in. Then when you see us three moving up, you can come too."

"Have you heard anything about Caleb?"

"No, sir, not a thing. You hit it right last night the first time trying. He is aboard that boat."

"Now, Zeke, you must capture that boat the first thing you do," said Enoch, earnestly. "I did not go near his house this morning because I did not want to see his mother."

"I have been up there, and she had her book open and was reading it. She seems to find a great deal of comfort in that book. Now you slip around behind some of these houses, but be sure that you keep me in sight. I will tell you when the proper time comes."

"And when that time does come remember that you don't stop for anything. My friend is on board that boat."

Zeke smiled but said nothing. He did not have his club in his hand, but he felt as confident as though he had it. Enoch obeyed orders and sauntered out on a street which led him away from all sight of the church and the Margaretta; but he took care to keep Zeke's figure in sight. He found some other men there, too, who were there with the same object that he was, and one and all knew that Caleb was a prisoner on board the Margaretta. They were highly indignant over it, too, and Enoch told himself that if they acted that way when they made the attack on the vessel, Caleb would not remain a prisoner much longer.

It seemed hard that, after taking so much pains to have their plans work correctly, they should turn out a failure at last. It all happened through the enthusiasm of that man, Zeb Short, who had been taken to task for saying that he did not believe in fighting the schooner's company. Zeb was true blue; there was no doubt about that. But he did not obey the orders he had received and keep out of sight of the church. He sauntered around through the back streets, but he came back to the church as soon as possible, and loafed around there, watching all the people who went in. Nobody had ever seen him go near a church before, and consequently their curiosity was excited. But Zeb paid no attention to that. He was going to capture those officers if it lay within his power to do it, and if it came to a fight, why, he would be there to lend a hand in it.

At last the captain was seen, with his white knee-breeches, velvet coat all covered with gold lace and his queue neatly done up behind. The captain saw Zeb there, and for a moment stopped as if he wanted to speak to him, but he thought better of it and passed on into the church. He was gone but a minute and then looked cautiously out again. Where was Zeb Short? He was some distance up the road going with all the speed he could command toward the place where he had left O'Brien a few minutes before. At the same time three or four other men, whom the captain knew to be provincials, came toward the church from in front, and they were walking as though they had business on hand.

"It has come, and much sooner than I had expected," said the captain. "We have got to get out of here now."

Captain Moore stepped back into the church and closed the door behind him. He looked in vain for the key, but it was not there, so he was obliged to let it go unlocked. He went into the body of the church with a quick step, and bending down he whispered some words to each officer he came to. In an instant the officers arose and followed him. The captain spoke to every man who belonged to his schooner, and when they had all gotten upon their feet, he moved down the aisle toward the preacher's desk. The latter had just gotten up to read a hymn, but he stopped when he saw all those men coming toward him. The captain knew his man, and forthwith stepped up and said some words to him, while an officer who belonged to the schooner kept on ahead and hoisted one of the windows. Then he stepped out lively, and hanging by his hands dropped to the ground. The other members of the schooner's company followed close behind him, the captain coming last, and the minister closed the window after them.

"Here we are, O'Brien," panted Zeb Short, breathing hard after his rapid run. "They are all in. I saw the captain go in just now. Hurry up."

"Where were you?" asked O'Brien.

"I was down there in front of the church," said Zeb. "I wanted to be sure that they all went in and that they did not leave anybody outside to keep watch."

"Were you not ordered to keep out of the way of that church?" asked O'Brien hotly.

"Course I was. Zeke told me to go around the back way, but I did not stay there. We have got seven men to capture, and since Zeke told me that there is fifteen in our party, I conclude that we are going to take them very easily."

"Well, you have raised a fight by your heedlessness," said O'Brien, starting for the church. "Those men are armed, and of course they will not give way to us. You have got to fight now whether you want to or not."

"I am there," said Zeb, drawing himself up to his full height. "It might as well be on shore as on the deck of the vessel."

"There is Zeke now, and he has got Wheaton with him," said O'Brien. "Do not say anything to him about what you have seen, for if you do, you will have a fight on your hands before you bargained for it."

"For doing my duty?" exclaimed Zeb.

"You did not do your duty. It was your place to keep out of the way of that church, and you ought to have done it. Here comes Zeke now, and he has got most of the fellows with him."

"Are you all ready?" asked Zeke, as he came up.

"All ready. We had better get into that church as soon as we can. There are seven of them."

Zeke raised his hand as if to intimate that that was his idea exactly, and he started off with the full expectation that in less than five minutes' time he and his party would have the most of the officers of the schooner's company at their mercy. When he got within hearing of the church he would not allow a single man to speak to him, but raised his hand to enforce silence upon every one of them. He cast his eyes around to see that they were all present, then with noiseless footfalls ascended the steps and opened the door. Or, rather, he laid his hand upon the latch and was about to turn and give his whispered instructions: "Don't say a word to anybody but go about it quick and still," when one of his followers happened to glance over his shoulder and saw a sight that filled him with amazement and alarm.

"Here, here, what's this?" he almost shouted.

Zeke turned and about two hundred yards away he saw the officers of the schooner, running close together so as to protect each other and going their level best to reach the wharf. They were going at a rapid rate, too. Zeke saw at a glance that pursuit was useless.

CHAPTER XII
DIFFERENT OPINIONS

"Bussin' on it, they are gone!" exclaimed Zeke, with a disconsolate air. "Now some one of you is a traitor. He told him what we were up to, and he went in to get his other officers and got out of one of the windows. Now which one of you is it?"

If there had been a traitor in that little company who had come out to capture the officers of the schooner's crew, Zeke did not take the proper way to find him. He was about as angry as he could well get. He took off his hat, slammed it down upon the ground, and glared from one to the other of his band as if he were just aching for one of them to declare that he was to blame for it.

"Never mind, Zeke," said O'Brien, who was as much cut up as anybody to find that the officers had escaped them. "There is another day coming. Remember that we have not given that cheer yet."

"I know that," said Zeke, picking up his hat. "But we don't want a traitor among us when we go off to capture that schooner. No doubt he will go to the captain and tip him the wink, and the first thing we know she will be out at sea."

"Let us go down and see what they are going to do," said O'Brien, walking toward the wharf. "Perhaps they are going to stay right there."

"I will bet you a shilling that that isn't what you would do if you was commander of the vessel," said Zeke, falling in by the side of O'Brien and moving along with him. "You would let the sloops go."

"No, I would not. If I were sent here to protect them I would stay with them until we were all captured. If the captain pulls up his anchor and drops down the bay, he will stay there until the sloops are loaded and ready to start."

Zeke made no reply; he was too indignant to talk. He walked along by the side of O'Brien, and when they came within sight of the Margaretta they found that there was something of a commotion on board. The men were running everywhere about the vessel in obedience to the harsh orders which came faintly to their ears, and presently the sound of dropping hand-spikes was heard, and a group of sailors were seen gathering about a gun which was pointed over the town.

"They are going to shoot at us!" shouted three or four of the men in Zeke's company.

"Let them shoot!" replied Zeb Short. "If we don't leave men enough behind us to make them pay for every drop of our blood that they will spill here to-day, we ought to be killed."

Not a man was seen who showed a disposition to run and find a safe place from the ball in the cannon which they knew would come flying toward them in a minute more. They all stood up, and although there were some pale faces among them, they waited with a dogged determination to see if the captain was going to shoot them down. Another minute passed, and then there was a roar aboard the schooner and something passed above their heads so close that they felt the wind of it. Another and another followed it, and during all this time Zeke and his men stood there on the wharf in plain sight, resolved that they would not go until the schooner got through firing. But not one of the balls entered the village. They all went over it and were intended, as the sailor had informed Caleb Young, to let the citizens of Machias see that the crew of the Margaretta were on the alert. Finally the guns ceased firing and the crew proceeded to secure them; and when this was done they turned their attention to something else. The schooner was too far off for them to hear the orders that were issued, but they saw the motions, and knew that the vessel was getting under way. She was not going to wait for the sloops after all.

"Bussin' on it!" exclaimed Zeke, taking off his hat and throwing it on the ground beside him. It seemed as if Zeke's hat was the first thing to stand his exhibition of fury whenever he got that way. He plucked it off and threw it as far from him as he could, and then was ready to go on with his grievance.

"Are they going to get under way sure enough?" stammered Enoch.

"You have been to sea often enough to know what 'stand by the capstan' means," retorted Zeke. "Of course she is going to get under way and let these sloops take care of themselves. You have seen Caleb Young for the last time."

"Don't put too much faith in what Zeke says," said Mr. O'Brien. "That schooner is going to get under way, but she is only going to drop down a few miles where she can have more sea-room. Do you know that Caleb is on board that schooner?"

"No, sir; but he is not in jail, and I don't know where else he could be. I believe Mr. Howard had him taken on board, too."

"Let us go with her and see where she is going to bring up," said Zeb Short, who felt very uneasy every time he looked at Zeke. "Perhaps we can make her surrender."

"Yes, you will make her surrender," said Zeke, in accents of disgust; but all the same he arose, as the others did, and walked along toward the point which was about three miles off. The schooner fairly beat them in the race because she had her mainsail up by this time, and was going ahead as fast as a four-knot breeze could send her. The men kept her in sight until she rounded to under the point and cast anchor about a quarter of a mile from shore.

"Do you see that, Zeke?" said Mr. O'Brien, cheerfully. "She is going to wait for the sloops. When they come down all ready to sail she will go on with them to New York."

"I am in favor of going up and getting one of the sloops and attacking her," said Enoch, whose eyes brightened wonderfully when he saw the Margaretta come to anchor. "We can't get her in any other way."

"I believe the boy is right there," said Wheaton. "If we are going to take that schooner at all, we must go out to her in some way."

A long discussion followed on this point, some were decidedly in favor of Wheaton's proposition and some were not. Every man had something to say, but without coming to the point, and before long the sun began to sink out of sight behind the hills.

"Well," said O'Brien, jumping up and turning his face toward home, "you have settled the matter for one day at least; but when to-morrow morning comes you will surely hear that cheer. We will take a sloop and come down here and capture that schooner."

"Hear! Hear!" shouted one of the men.

"All of you who are in favor of going with us we shall expect to see down here," continued O'Brien. "Those of you who don't favor it, stay at home."

"Of course if you are going to fight the schooner, we shall go too," said another, who could not see the beauty of taking a sloop to go out where the schooner was and be licked. "When you give that cheer you will find us all ready."

"I wish you had been as ready to-day as you say you will be to-morrow for we would have had that schooner in an hour from now," said O'Brien. "I hope you will come prepared to do your duty."

Zeke and his friends walked home, but they did not say much during their journey. He and Enoch were very much disappointed, and they began to think that the enthusiasm that some of their party had displayed was all put on for the occasion. They had the best of reasons for believing that Caleb was a prisoner on board that vessel, and that a few more hours would find him safe in New York and that they would never see him again. They were more anxious to fight now than they had ever been before; and when Enoch parted from him at his gate, Zeke said:

"That's what comes of postponing a dangerous thing like this. Those fellows yesterday were all eager to fight, and you saw how some of them backed out down there at the point."

"You are going to take that schooner, are you not?" asked Enoch.

"To be sure we are," said Zeke, striking his palms together. "If there is one man left of our party, he is going to sail that boat into the harbor."

"I am glad to hear you say that," said Enoch, smiling and rubbing his hands together. "The only brother I have is aboard that boat, and I am bound to get him out if I can."

"You keep your ears open and you will surely hear the sign," said Zeke, impressively. "Then you come a running."

Enoch replied that he would be there as soon as any of them, and continued on his way toward home. On the way he was obliged to pass Mr. Howard's house, and he saw somebody sitting on the porch whom he hoped he might never see again. It was the boy whose father had placed Caleb a prisoner aboard the schooner. He was sitting on the porch with his wounded eye done up, and when he saw Enoch approaching he got up and came down to the gate; but Enoch noticed that he did not come within reach of it. He stopped just outside of the touch of Enoch's arm.

"Well, Enoch, you did not get them, did you?" said he.

"Get what?" said Enoch in reply.

"Oh, I don't suppose you know that there was fifteen or twenty men who went down to the church this morning to arrest the officers of the schooner," said James, with a laugh. "I know all about it. You did not guard the windows as well as the door, and so they slipped out. You will have to be sharper than that if you hope to gobble Britishers."

Enoch thought he had got all he wanted to know out of James, and turned to go on again, but before he had made many steps James called after him.

"I have got something more that I want to tell you," said he. "How many of you did they kill when they opened fire on you?"

"They did not kill any of us. They shot over our heads just to let us know that they were on the watch."

"Yes; and they could have wiped you all out if they had had a mind to. You want to go easy around that schooner, for they have got one of you boys there in irons."

"You know that, do you?" said Enoch. He drew cautiously up to the gate, but James was on the watch and he stepped back a pace or two.

"Yes, sir, I know it. The captain said he would arrest him, and he was not with you fellows down to the church; so he must be on board the schooner. He is going to New York, and he will find men there who are strong enough to make him pay his fine."

"If you will just step outside that gate for one minute I will put your other eye in mourning, and then you will have two eyes just alike," said Enoch, who was almost beside himself with fury.

"No, I thank you," said James, with a laugh. "My other eye suits me exactly. You will get yourself arrested, too, if you don't look out. Caleb will pay his fine at the rate of a shilling a day, and that will take him thirty days to square it all up. Thirty days shut up away from home and friends and surrounded with men who don't like you, will teach him a lesson."

"Well, I will tell you one thing," said Enoch, whose pale face showed how angry he was. "Don't let me catch you outside this gate again. And when Caleb gets back – he will be out before the thirty days are up – "

"He will, eh? How is he going to get out?"

"He will get out; don't you forget it. And when he comes back, you had better stay in the house unless you want your other eye tied up too."

James did not say any more, for something Enoch had said had started a serious train of reflections in his mind. He looked sharply at Enoch for a second or two, and then turned and walked into the house, while Enoch kept on toward home.

"If Caleb won't lick him I will lick him myself," soliloquized the boy, who was so excited that he could scarcely keep from going back and assaulting James in his own dooryard. "I don't know now how I kept my hands off him."

"Well, what did that young rebel have to say to you?" said Mr. Howard, as James entered the sitting-room where his father was. "Did you tell him about Caleb?"

"I did, and he was as saucy about it as you please," said James. "He says that Caleb won't stay in prison for thirty days, and when he comes out he will fix my other eye to be tied up, too."

"He won't stay there for thirty days!" said his father. "What does he mean by that? They can't capture the schooner, for if she sees a boat coming out with a lot of men on board, she will slip her anchor and put out to sea. I guess he will stay there thirty days."

"I guess I had better stay in the house altogether," said James, with an air of disgust. "I have made Enoch mad at me, and he will beat me if he sees me on the streets."

"Why don't you let him punch you?" said Mr. Howard. "Then we will have him shut up too."

James did not see fit to answer this question. He looked at his father with surprise and then walked out on the porch again.