Cap'n Steiner looked again, and waited for some time before he answered. While he waited the strange, dark craft crept down closer and closer to the Common Dock. Cap'n Sands was studying her ensign through his highly polished old marine glass.
"Seems to lie uncommon low in the water!" commented Cap'n Steiner. "No, Henery, I can't say as I 've seen her a-fore!"
She swept still closer. Then, against the glare of the sun, they made out high on the roof of her cabin the armed and befeathered form of the Captain, with his tiller firmly in his hand, his feet planted well apart.
A minute later they caught the glitter of the brass cannon in her bow. Near by paced the First Mate, every now and then sweeping the horizon with his glass, surreptitiously munching at a ginger-snap.
Then the two startled old captains made out eight small boys—eight small boys tugging and pulling at eight unwieldly and strangely shaped sweep-oars. Their faces were red and wet, and their mouths were oddly puckered up. Beside them, as though prepared for instant use, unmistakably lay firearms and boarding-irons.
