"Let--let me go!" I managed to gasp.

"Oh, I'll let you go!" he went on, sarcastically. "I'll let you go quicker than you expect, you imp! How do you like that, eh?"

And the next instant he had hurled me bodily over the side. I went spinning through the air, and then fell with a splash into the waters of Long Island Sound!

[Ill.u.s.tration: I WENT SPINNING THROUGH THE AIR, AND THEN FELL WITH A SPLASH INTO THE WATER.]

Lowell's attack had been so unexpected that I hardly had time to realize what was taking place, and did nothing to stop the catastrophe.

But once in the water I regained my presence of mind. I reached the surface as soon as possible, and then shouted l.u.s.tily for help.

By this time the Spitfire had gone on a considerable distance ahead, and as the wind was blowing little short of a gale, I was doubtful if my voice could be heard. Nevertheless I continued to call for a.s.sistance, and at the same time did all in my power to keep afloat.

This would have been an easy matter had I not been weighed down by any clothes. But the shirt and trousers I wore were heavy, and once soaked with water they felt like lead. I tried to get them off and also to unloosen my shoes; but, as is usual in such cases, succeeded in doing neither.

At the same time I watched the Spitfire and was not a little alarmed to see that the vessel was still forging ahead. Was it possible that those on board were going to leave me behind?

It certainly seemed so, and for a few moments I was thoroughly alarmed.

I was out of sight of land, and the darkness of night was fast approaching.

As I moved about in an endeavor to rid myself of some of my clothing, my arm came in contact with something which proved to be a short spar. I grasped it at once, and its buoyancy helped greatly to keep me afloat.

By this time the Spitfire was far ahead, and I had about concluded that I had seen the last of her. I noticed that some of the sails were lowered, and finally that the schooner swung around and began to tack back.

It took some time for the old craft to come within hailing distance, and once or twice she stopped, as if those on board were about to give up the search.

But finally she tacked to my right, and I raised my voice to the top of its power.

"Help! Help!"

For a moment no answer was returned, and I repeated the cry.

"Ahoy! I see you!" was the answer.

Five minutes more and the schooner was alongside. A rope was thrown over, and, thoroughly exhausted, I crawled on board.

"You rascal!" roared Captain Hannock. "Thought you could escape that way, did you? I had half a mind to let you go to Davy Jones's locker!"

And he shook his fist at me savagely.

At these words I was almost too dumfounded to speak. Did he really imagine I had jumped overboard?

"What do you mean?" I gasped. "I didn't go over on purpose. Lowell pitched me over."

"What's that?" thundered the boatswain. "That's the biggest whopper I ever heard in my life."

"It's the truth."

"Stuff and nonsense," cried the captain. "Lowell seems to worry you altogether too much. Go forward, and don't you try any more such monkey tricks again, or I'll take the rope's end over you myself!"

And Captain Hannock advanced upon me so savagely that I was glad enough to retreat.

I went down into the forecastle, and here Tony Dibble, a hand, managed to hunt me up some dry clothing. While I was putting it on the old sailor stood by, and presently said:

"I'm afraid you're going to have a hard time of it, my lad. I was thinking Lowell pushed you over, though he stood by it that you had fallen. I saw you just as you reached the water and I flung a stick after you, thinking it might keep you afloat."

"And it did," I replied. "If it hadn't been for that I might have been at the bottom by this time."

"The old man didn't want to turn back at first when he heard you were overboard," went on the old sailor. "He said it was bad luck."

"You don't mean to say he would have let me go to the bottom!" I cried.

"That's it; and me and Goller and Sampson wouldn't have it, and told him so, and then he turned back."

"I shall never forget what you have done for me," said I. And I never have to this day.

With dry clothes on I went on deck with the old sailor. Lowell did not come near me, and I saw nothing of him until the next day.

CHAPTER XI.

CAPTAIN HANNOCK'S PLOT.

The sky was overcast, and Dibble said that a storm was brewing.

"Will it be a bad one?"

"I can't say. Sometimes a little storm outside is a bad one in the Sound, and then again it's just the opposite. I remember six years ago, sailing from Boston to Norwalk that we struck a little storm that didn't look like more than a puff of wind, and yet when we were done with it we hadn't any main-topmast worth speaking of."

"I should like to see a real storm," I said.

The old sailor shook his head.

"They're nicer to sit by a good fire and read about than to be in. You never know what to expect. Besides the Spitfire's best days are over."

Presently I saw the captain and Lowell go below together. I was satisfied that they intended to talk matters over, especially when, a little later, Crocker was called to join them.

If only I could hear what was said, both about myself and about the plan to be carried out! By hook or by crook I must get within hearing distance.

Presently Phil Jones came up the companionway to throw something over the side. I immediately approached him.

"Say, Phil, do you want to do me a favor?"

"Certainly I do," replied the cabin boy readily. "I'm always ready to do a favor for any one who stands up before Lowell."

And Phil Jones gave a grin.