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THE LAST CRUISE OF THE SPITFIRE;

"Here, what does this mean——" I began, indignantly.

"Shut up!" come back in hurried tones.

Then the bag was pulled over my head and arms, and in five seconds I found myself a prisoner and hardly able to move hands or feet.

I tried to cry out and to ask questions, but could not. The bag was thick, and, being tied around my neck, almost took away my breath.

For the first instant I was afraid that the police from New York had found me, but I as quickly gave up this idea. They would never treat me in this strange fashion, I felt certain. But who were my strange assailants, and what did they intend to do with me?

I felt myself lifted out of the boat and into another craft. Then I was thrown on my back and something that felt like a piece of canvas was spread over me.

The boat, with me and my captors moved off and kept moving for perhaps ten minutes or quarter of an hour. I tried to struggle to my feet, but strong hands held me down.

"Better keep still!" I heard a voice cry. "You can't escape, no matter how hard you try."

When the boat finally came to a standstill I was nearly suffocated for the want of fresh air, and I